” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English Club on the following evening. She was tempted to touch him in the car as they drove to the empty house, but she refrained for fear of causing a car accident. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. But of course the money will not be refunded. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it.
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