” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. ’ She threw a melting look at Roding. In some instances she tantalizes the victim for years and mocks him in the end. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face.
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