Sir Rowland laid his hand upon his sword. Most of it had been incomprehensible to her, or comprehensible in a way that checked further curiosity, but the figure of Vivien, hard, capable, successful, and bullying, and ordering about a veritable Teddy in the person of Frank Gardner, appealed to her. That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her.
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