” He replied. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. In truth, she would quite like to have him rescue her. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. ” “You have nothing to tell me?” “Nothing!” So Annabel departed with the slightest of farewells, wearing a thick travelling veil, and sitting far back in the corner of a closed carriage. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. ‘But a spy I am not.
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