He is coming here to tea. " CHAPTER XX To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting out the old world. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. ‘It is imbecile that you are. My name is Annabel, not Anna. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. “She”, you say. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. " "A secret!" exclaimed Trenchard.
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