‘Yes, miss. I want to leave Paris to-day. " "You did right," returned Trenchard. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. " "They know what?" "When and when not to speak. ” It was sitting in her suitcase in the same pocket as the expired bus tickets. The thousand voices which a few moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Probably something he had eaten. Annabel a murderess! It was not possible. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. “Very well,” he said, “I will go. Pretty good stuff, some of it. ” “And in Paris——” “In Paris,” he interrupted, “she was a very delightful companion, but beyond that —one did not take her seriously. Besides, there are greater rascals than Jack Sheppard at liberty, Sir Rowland.
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