He is
more false and more cruel than a serpent. At least, that is his
reputation among us. And those heathen beggars trust him so utterly."
Steele stopped abruptly. He had spoken with strong passion. His honest
face was glowing with indignation. He was British to the backbone, and
he loathed all treachery instinctively.
Suddenly he saw that the girl beside him had turned very white. He
paused in his walk with an awkward sense of having spoken unadvisedly.
"Of course," he said, with a boyish effort to recover his ground, "it
has to be done. Someone must do the dirty work. But that doesn't make
you like the man who does it a bit the better. One wouldn't brush
shoulders with the hangman if one knew it."
Averil was standing still. Her hands were clenched.
"Are you talking of Colonel Carlyon--my friend?" she said slowly.
Steele turned sharply away from the wide gaze of her grey eyes.
"I hope not, Miss Eversley," he said. "The man I mean is not fit to be
the friend of any woman."
VIII
THE STRANGER ON THE VERANDA
It was to all outward seeming a very gay crowd that assembled at the
club-house on the following night for the first dance of the season.
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