“Really, I do not know why I should have doubted it. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. Here he set down the lamp, and took out a key, and as he did so the expression of his countenance was so atrocious, that Jack felt assured he was not wrong in his suspicions. How she had fought her eagerness in the beginning, lest it reveal her ignorance of the marvels of mankind! The terror and ecstasy of that night in Singapore— the first city she had ever seen! There was still the impression that something akin to a miracle had piloted her successfully from one ordeal to another. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. Ann Veronica tried to seem absolutely unconcerned.
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