Not much to his surprise, Jack Kimble shook his head. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. Lots of us are like that. “I have signed a statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both true. ‘Imbecile. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard.
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