" "We waste time with this fellow," interposed Sir Cecil, "and may lose the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building. "Her ladyship—" faltered the attendant. Jackson?" said Wood, significantly. " "For me!" vociferated Mrs. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. "But she is saying something to me! What is it?" The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted.
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