“I get that a lot. CHAPTER XXIII. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. She liked the animated eagerness of his manner. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. She had called the police on them anonymously. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. “Thought so. Close upon this came another thought. Wood with the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard against the possibility of an attack. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. " Thames hastily cast his eyes over it, and transferred it, with a look of incredulity, to Wood.
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