The Judge sat upright, his attitude strained, staring down at his hand, his face white, and eyes burning feverishly.

That he had been drinking heavily was evident, but Kirby fronted him in apparent cold indifference, his feelings completely masked, with the cards he held bunched in his hands, and entirely concealed from view.

No twitch of an eyelash, no quiver of a muscle revealed his knowledge; his expressionless face might have been carved out of stone.

Between the two rested a stack of gold coin, a roll of crushed bills, and a legal paper of some kind, the exact nature of which I could not determine.

I leaned forward, but could only perceive that it bore the official stamp of some recording office--a deed, perhaps, to some of the remaining acres of Beaucaire.