Explore "The Yellow Face" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Jack sat there silently enough, waiting for Lord Barmouth to speak. The difficulty and delicacy of the situation were by no means lost upon him. He shuffled about uneasily in his chair, trying to make something definite out of the still figure opposite him.
"I quite appreciate your feelings," Lord Barmouth said, in the deep, thrilling tones that Jack remembered so well. "It is no nice thing for a gentleman to thrust himself into the private sorrows of an unfortunate man like myself. But my wife has told me all that you have been recently saying to her. You seem to be under the impression that you saw me in Montrose Place last night; in fact, that you recognized my face, which I imprudently disclosed whilst I was lighting a cigarette. Mr. Masefield, I am not disposed to deny the accusation."