. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. You haven’t had it on your mind all this time?” “I have rather. After all, old P. “You, too,” he said abruptly. “Mr. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. “There are policemen—and buses. But he may remain with you if he pleases: I sha'n't hinder him. ” He whispered with reverence.
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