But Rotherby waved him back, and the gesture shook blood from his hand like raindrops.

His face was livid; his eyes were upon the woman he had gone so near betraying with a look that none might read.

Jenkins swayed, sickly, against the table, whilst Mr.Caryll observed all with a critical eye and came to the conclusion that she must have loved this villain.
The hilt and stump of sword clattered in the fireplace, whither she hurled it.

A moment she caught her face in her hands, and a sob shook her almost fiercely.

Then she came past his lordship, across the room to Mr.Caryll, Rotherby making no shift to detain her.
"Take me away, sir! Take me away," she begged him.
Mr.Caryll's gloomy face lightened suddenly.