Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. They blinded me. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. ” Ann Veronica was stung to helpless anger. I have an idea that you are in some sort of trouble. There he stands. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. A young man turned to pay the cabman. He kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as if awaiting to be addressed. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head. But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders.
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