"Some dreadful deed is about to be committed, which I may perhaps prevent," muttered Jack to himself. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. "What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at lunch?" Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. He addressed himself chiefly to Goopes, and spoke as if in reply to long-sustained inquiries on the part of Goopes into the personnel of the Marylebone Borough Council. "I didn't expect this from you," rejoined Thames, resolutely. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions.
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