Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. “From what you saw from the opposite pavement then, it is certain that some person who was able to move about was in this room only a minute or so before you entered it?” “That is so,” Anna answered. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids talking about you and the young man. “Oh, that. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. No, none at all. .
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