Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. “It has been a delightful evening for me. They sold him the whisky. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. You're alone, too, child. ‘You have said you do not wish to hurt me. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. “If you really are going to wait, make yourself as comfortable as you can. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man. "Something's wrong. “I will tell you all that I know,” Anna said. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands.
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