‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack. But pathologically, he is still on the edge. “When it comes there is no mistaking it. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence. “I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it.
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