Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. Apologizing to Sir Rowland for this unpleasant reception, and swearing lustily at his servant for occasioning it by leaving the dogs at liberty, Jonathan ordered the man to light them to the audience-room. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power. ‘One would take it that the house had been ransacked. We just want to ask her a few questions about an old murder case.
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