” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. “Been sitting on the doorstep almost for two hours. ” He was silent for some moments. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares.
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