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Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. Remember, some day you and I are going to have that book. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure of his identity. "That's a glorious reward. “Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain.
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