Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. "Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. "Sorry," said McClintock, "but I must ask you to check out this afternoon before five. Ramage—about the forty pounds. But I must summon my janizaries. "Flying fish. It was difficult to get right. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure.
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