"An idea--no more than an idea--daunted me.
You have shown me that.

I cross to England with you, Sir Richard, and let my Lord Ostermore look to himself, for my name--I who have no right to any name--my name is judgment!" The exaltation fell from him as suddenly as it had mounted.

He dropped into a chair, thoughtful again and slightly ashamed of his sudden outburst.
Sir Richard Everard watched with an eye of gloomy joy the man whom he had been at such pains to school in self-control.
Overhead there was a sudden crackle of thunder, sharp and staccato as a peal of demoniac laughter..