“Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. “I have not left this apartment myself. "These are my terms, Sir Rowland," he added, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, and pushing it towards the knight. .
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