‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. You know how stubborn they get. Presently McClintock came in. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. At the sound of the door Ann Veronica uncovered a tearless face, and with one swift movement assumed a conversational attitude. There were shadows under his eyes. \"No, not really. But tell me," he added with much anxiety, "has nothing been heard of Thames since the night of my former escape?" "Nothing whatever," answered Winifred. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. She mentally resolved to do her best to avoid personal encounters with him in that instant. So I dare say I was christened Jack.
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