With the usual precautions, Austin then departed. 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. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. “It is unimportant,” she said. “It is intolerable that you should be followed about by such a creature. It's as well to be on the safe side.
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