For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. Men of action by the scarlet coats with their grey facings—insignia of the county militia. I am so amazed to see you here. Dead or alive, I'll have him. When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he conceives it to be characteristic of his countrymen. . I somehow understood. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour.
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