As he spoke furiously and ferociously, Lord Burnham walked past the Marquis and reached the door.
He pulled it open and then turned back.
“I will get even with you, Denzil, sooner or later!” he snarled.
He went out into the corridor, slamming the door behind him.
Athina put her hands up to her face.
The tension had been intolerable and even now she could hardly believe that they had won.
The Marquis raised himself from the arm of the chair.
“It might have been worse,” he remarked coolly.
Then he looked at Athina.
“You are all right?”
“I feel as if I have just been battered by a tornado, but you were wonderful! I am sure he now realises that he can never have Peter back.”
“I do hope so,” the Marquis murmured quietly.
“How could you have guessed so cleverly that he had written th
