But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive on the beach. “A bad thing for me when that legacy came. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. ” 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. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. ’ It had not before occurred to him, but this realisation fuelled the general’s growing conviction that he was being imposed upon in some way. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall.
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