"And there you're right, you may dipind, marm," observed Terence. But after that it was easy. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. Still, the respite was sufficient for Spurlock to look about for some weapon. ‘You are stubborn like a mule. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. Lucy aimed the firearm at Rhea’s chest.
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