Fred Fred - The Mystery of the Ravenspurs

Geoffrey made up his mind grimly. He seemed to stumble forward, and the box fell from his shoulder, crashing down on the stone floor. The force of the shock simply shivered it in pieces, a great nest of grass and feathers dropped out, and from the inside a large mass of strange objects appeared.

"I am very sorry," Geoffrey stammered after the box had fallen.

"Never mind," she said, "accidents will happen."

But Geoffrey was rapt in the contemplation of what he saw before him – some score or more of ivory discs, each of which contained some painting; many of them appeared to be portraits.

Geoffrey picked up one of them and examined it curiously. He was regarding an ivory circle with a dark face upon it, the face of a beautiful fury.

"Why, this is you," Geoffrey cried. "If you could only give way to a furious passion, it is you to the life."

"I had forgotten that," Marion gasped. "Of course, it is not me. See how old and stained the ivory is; hundreds of years old, it must be. Don't ask any more questions, but go and throw that thing in the sea. Never speak of the subject again."

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