“I do.”
He moved on, and the man in green set himself beside him. The sunset was on their faces, and up yonder Judith of the Terrace still stood outlined against a glow of gold.
Blake saw his companion look steadily towards her, and there was something in that look that made his blood simmer.
“Mrs. Judith stays out late on so damp an evening.”
“And what is it to you if she does, my friend,” said Blake’s eyes.
The man in green laughed, that quiet, threatening laugh of his.
“You come here very often, Captain Blake.”
“I beg your pardon, sir.”
“I said, you come here very often. You are new to these parts; I know them better than you do.”
A cold anger began to stir in Hilary Blake.