But about the unknown Englishman she was not so satisfied. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. He was engaged in detesting Manning and himself in almost equal measure. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. Though I’ll wager she used this passage, and we certainly ought to investigate it. That could signify nothing except that the doctor had a friend down there somewhere, on an island in one of those archipelagoes. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. They do not come for me, to find me and bring me home. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. "She has fallen into the villain's hands. Kneebone," she added, with a glance at that gentleman, which was meant to speak daggers, "will do as he pleases.
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