Explore "The White Glove" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Look at his face," Mrs. Manton murmured to Clifford; her eyes were cast down, and she appeared to be pondering deeply over something. "Watch him carefully, Mr. Marsh. Then you will get some idea of the class of man you have to deal with."
Clifford glanced up, cautiously. Rayne stood with his head erect, and a peculiarly hard smile on his face. But the pupils of the dark eyes dilated like those of an animal in the presence of its prey. A perfect storm of hate blazed in them.