Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. ‘Ah, no,’ Gerald uttered at once, lowering his voice and infusing it with all the promise he could command. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband. My father died a year ago, by the way. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned.
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