"I shall need little more. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. Brendon and I are great chums,” he went on nervously. \" Shari drawled as she looked up from her dissected sausage. ‘What are the chances, do you think, of that thing being already cocked?’ ‘Probably not even loaded,’ suggested Hilary hopefully. Even now she was dazed. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “Listen,” she said. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. I came to see you on my own account.
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