"To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. I rather want them. Your brother has everything—I have not shown myself capable even of earning my own living except in a way which could not possibly bring any credit upon anybody. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. Solomon Smith seemed to be Mr. Then I assumed a rather portentous manner to prepare him. I trust that she will not misunderstand me. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face.
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