“And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. ” Sir John was speechless. “Indeed,” she said, “it was very fortunate that I should have met you this afternoon. In mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the equivalent in money. Capital swordsman. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. All at once her heart began to patter queerly.
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