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” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. Oh, and weeks and months of thought and feeling there are bottled up too. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. The tears flowed faster. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. It was as though he were personally aggrieved.
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