“Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. She regarded the young man coldly. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. And, if you hear any odd noise in the parlour, don't mind it. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused.
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