In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. “I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet. "Well, Sir Rowland," he said, after a brief pause, during which the knight regarded him with a searching glance, as if endeavouring to recall his features, "I will not gainsay your words. “I gave your name. Wood, when he does return, I'd send him about his business. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. We sha’n’t hang up on any misunderstanding.
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