Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. Anna, who was disposed to be sharply critical, could find no fault with it. Taking the wind was her business in life. You, sir,” he added, turning to Brendon, “had better take my card round to the police station in Werner Street and ask that Detective Dorling be sent round here at once on urgent business. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. " "What should I tempt you to?" asked Blueskin, in surprise. "Jack!" Her son averted his gaze. ’ ‘No, miss,’ cut in Kimble.
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