” “May I ask,” Anna said softly, “what you presume to have been the nature of my errand here this evening?” Sir John pointed to Annabel, who was as yet utterly limp. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. She opened the door with a neon colored key. "You can no longer refuse to tell me the name of this youth's father, Aliva," he said.
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