. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly. And it is not at all his affair. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. “In a sense—yes. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force.
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