"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. “Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. I knew where I would go next: Florence. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. And there are other guides. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven.
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