What Fyne precisely meant by "wrangling" I don't know, but I had no doubt that these two had "wrangled" to a profoundly disturbing extent.

How much the other was affected I could not even imagine; but the man before me was quite amazingly upset.
"In a four-wheeler! Take him on board!" I muttered, startled by the change in Fyne.
"That's the plan--nothing less.

If I am to believe what I have been told, his feet will scarcely touch the ground between the prison-gates and the deck of that ship." The transformed Fyne spoke in a forcibly lowered tone which I heard without difficulty.

The rumbling, composite noises of the street were hushed for a moment, during one of these sudden breaks in the traffic as if the stream of commerce had dried up at its source.

Having an unobstructed view past Fyne's shoulder, I was astonished to see that the girl was still there.