The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. ’ He glanced about and saw his quarry holding court at one end of the vast mirrored chamber. His hands came up, his face broke apart. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall. The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. But, as you perceive, I brought it away with me. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent.
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