Ireton is welcome to search every room in my house if he pleases," said Jonathan, in a tone of bravado. ” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. They conversed, or more or less she interviewed him. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile.
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