Chapter Eighteen
Some three days passed before the Towers received a visitor unknown to Gussie.
He came up the driveway on foot, his somewhat shabby overcoat proclaiming him a man of no particular means, but his posture that of a man accustomed to command. Gussie, perceiving him from an upstairs window, paused to watch his approach, intrigued, for he had an arresting appearance. He could not be above forty in years, she thought, and perhaps rather less; he had an untidy shock of dark hair, a build that contrived to be bulky, but without running to fat, and a long, stamping stride suggestive of either some great annoyance, or a touch of bravado.
When she ran lightly downstairs, she found herself the only member of the family in the hall as a footman admitted the newcomer.
He came inside
