Page:The woman, the man, and the monster (IA womanmanmonster00dawe).pdf/249

 That all things in this world were not ordered just as he would have them was one of those petty annoyances with which the great are not infrequently confronted. Yet notwithstand- ing these drawbacks he managed to go through the world with a high chin.

From a reclining posture he now sat up in one corner of the sofa and let his eyes wander slowly round the room. Vermont watched him closely. He remembered that dictatorial, overbearing manner, the harsh voice which was not slow to pour contempt on those with whom he disagreed. Brenton had never been lovable even as a boy, and the man betrayed no increase of the gentler qualities. The manner, even in repose, was as uncompromising as ever, the pronounced jaw and penetrating glance being ever on the aggressive.

“That whisky is good,” he said; “it has put new life into me.”

“Have another?”

“Thanks.”

A second libation had a still more surprising effect. The colour, a swarthy red, came back to his face; his eyes shone with a keener intelligence, and he began to curl the ends of