" "What's that?" "Think it over," said McClintock, grimly. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. ‘Don’t tell me. Thames Darrell MUST die. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. “I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything.
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