Like a petulant child he snapped. Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?” she asked. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. Do you understand?’ ‘Aye, sir.
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