What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. ” He raised his hand, and they saw that he was holding a small revolver. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. “A joke! Sir John, if you had presented yourself here an hour ago we should have greeted you in pained silence. My death, probably. ” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better.
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