A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. ’ ‘What about this Leonardo fellow?’ Hilary asked, still frowning heavily. Manning called. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again.
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