On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. He was amused. ‘You see, I had another reason for visiting your grandfather. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity.
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