"I'm sorry about that, Peterson," he said quietly. "She might at least have seen the game out to the end." The other made no reply--only by a slight shake of his shoulders did he show that he had heard. And Drummond's feeling of pity increased. Scoundrel, murderer, unmitigated blackguard though he knew this man to be, yet when all was said and done he was no weakling. And it wasn't difficult to read his thoughts at the moment--to realise the bitterness and the fury that must be possessing him. Half an hour ago …
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