Mike seemed visibly happier at her remark. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. "Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. "Sit beside me," continued Mrs.
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