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“What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it. But this chap is good wine yet. Good night. “No,” said her brother, conclusively, “it’s not for a parent to go on persuading a child. It’s 180 endearing. But as the mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her father thickened. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. “Now step aside, I have some business to attend to.
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