His thin face was finely molded, his eyes and hair were very black, and his figure was marked by an agile grace.
He looked up sharply as Cartwright advanced.
"I want you for a few minutes," Cartwright said roughly, as if he gave an order.
Shillito frowned, but went with him to the back veranda.

Although the night was warm and an electric light burned under the roof, nobody was about.

Cartwright signed the other to sit down.
"I expect your holiday's nearly up, and the hotel car meets the train in the morning," he remarked.
"What about it ?" Shillito asked.

"I'm not going yet." "You're going to-morrow," said Cartwright grimly.
Shillito smiled and gave him an insolent look, but his smile vanished.
Cartwright's white mustache bristled, his face was red, and his eyes were very steady.

It was not for nothing the old ship-owner had fronted disappointed investors and forced his will on shareholders' meetings.
Shillito saw the fellow was dangerous.
"I'll call you," he said, using a gambler's phrase.
"Very well," said Cartwright.