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Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. "You mistake,—you are mine. Stanley, “Mr. " "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly. “Turned out to be an impostor, too. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. If you ride out there, and the place is well worth a visit, for the magnificent view it commands of some of the finest country in the neighbourhood of London,—you are certain to meet with him. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain.
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