They stood back together and stared at it. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. "Why were you afraid to show me this picture, Winny?" asked the youth.
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