Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. The fair boy in the audience who had waved was yet another suitor. Montressor’s guests. She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes.
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