Sanguine they were not. Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed. He was safe, out of the beaten track, at last really comparable to the needle in the haystack. It made her laugh, which in turn made him laugh. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. I’m a man, and I know what I mean.
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