Explore "Our Admirable Betty" by Jeffery Farnol on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Viscount Merivale sat alone in the hutch-like sentry-box; his handsome face was unduly grave, his brow care-worn and he bit at his carefully tended nails, which last was a thing in him quite phenomenal.
All at once he clenched his fist and smote it softly on the table: