Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. But when she saw the car, her body filled with dread, for it gave her a bad feeling. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. Well, if she survives the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. ‘It is not easy.
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