What Wolf felt, as he listened to this, was that all the mysterious evil that he had associated with this man was in reality nothing more than senile perversity. Jason was right. But if Jason was right with regard to Urquhart, wasnât he likely to be right with regard to Wolf Solent? To Jasonâs mindâ ââ ⌠to Jasonâs peculiar satisfactionâ ââ ⌠evil was no more than a thin-drifting, poisonous rain, that seeped through into everything. Nothing was free from it, except perhaps the passionate heart of Olwen! But it was just a slimy rain. It had no spiritual depths. Mr. Urquhart and himself had been playing together a pleasant theatrical dramaâ ââ ⌠all gesture, all illusion! Upon Jasonâs plate of well-cleaned rook-bones lay the fragments of their high Satanic play!
Mr. Urquhart had called the young waiter to his side now. Darnley and Jason were talking in low voices about the arrangements for tomorrow.â ââ âŚ