And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. . Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all.
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