{"product_id":"2940013770607","title":"The Finger of Fate","description":"The funny thing about it was that I did not know George Barstow at all\u003cbr\u003ewell. Had he been an intimate personal friend of mine, the affair might\u003cbr\u003ehave seemed more natural. But he wasn't: he was just a club acquaintance\u003cbr\u003ewith whom I was on ordinary club terms. We met sometimes in the\u003cbr\u003ebridge-room: occasionally we had an after-lunch brandy together. And that\u003cbr\u003ewas all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe had obviously a good deal of money. Something in the City, but a\u003cbr\u003esomething that did not demand an extravagant amount of his time. His\u003cbr\u003eweek-ends were of the Friday to Tuesday variety, and I gathered that he\u003cbr\u003ewas on the border line of golfers who are eligible to compete in the\u003cbr\u003eAmateur Championship.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn appearance he was almost aggressively English. Clean-shaven, and ruddy\u003cbr\u003eof face, his natural position was with his legs apart on the hearth-rug\u003cbr\u003eand his back to the fire. Probably a whisky-and-soda in his hand, or a\u003cbr\u003etankard of beer. Essentially a man's man, and yet one who by no means\u003cbr\u003edisliked the pleasures of the occasional night-club party. But one\u003cbr\u003erealised they must only be occasional.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe was, I suppose, about thirty-seven, though he was one of those men\u003cbr\u003ewhose age is difficult to tell. He might quite easily have been in the\u003cbr\u003eearly forties. His appearance was healthy rather than good looking: his\u003cbr\u003ephysical strength was distinctly above the average. And to finish off\u003cbr\u003ethis brief outline of the man, he had joined up in the earliest days of\u003cbr\u003ethe war and finally risen to the command of a battalion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI recognised him when he was a hundred yards away from the inn. He was\u003cbr\u003ecoming towards me down the road, his hands in his pockets, his head sunk.\u003cbr\u003eBut the walk was unmistakeable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Great Scott! Barstow!\" I said as he came abreast of me, \"what brings you\u003cbr\u003ehere at this time of year?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Here\" was a little village not far from Innsbruck.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe glanced up with a start, and I was shocked to see the change in his\u003cbr\u003eface. He looked positively haggard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Hullo! Staunton,\" he said moodily. Then he gave a sheepish little laugh.\u003cbr\u003e\"I suppose it is a bit out of my beaten track.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Come and have a spot of this,\" I remarked. \"I've tasted much worse.\"","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47079663763696,"sku":"2940013770607","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013770607_p0.jpg?v=1763590035","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013770607","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}