“Very well,” said Ann Veronica, with an air of concluding the discussion. The world had not passed by but had gone around it in a tremendous half-circle. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. I should have thought my note cleared up everything. A knot of three policemen in conflict with her staggered toward Ann Veronica’s attendants and distracted their attention. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention. Spurlock had been taken aboard that yacht with the Kanaka crew, because The Tigress was the only ship marked for departure that night.
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