" "I will have none till I have forced the villain's name from you!" he cried, stamping the floor with rage. There was nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. If the boy was legging it alone…. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. ” Mr. Kneebone, I'll make one of the party.
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