“I do. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. More importantly, she had her wits. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. "Bring the light, Nab. " "Why, surely you can't be in earnest, Captain. I jumped then—I was not even shaken.
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