” Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the slightest flush of colour. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question. I didn’t understand before that letter. His number was unlisted and unpublished. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. This was automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. . It might be that the boy had taken one drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded.
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