He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. . Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. Noiselessly, his booted feet stepping with careful restraint, he started forward, signalling to Roding to follow. Charvill’s fury was burning out. A dissipated, loose-living man. But it was clear she was in no mood for Teddys. Gently each time Ruth drew down the arms. " "It is," replied Jack.
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