A quarter of an hour passed. Detention would mean coming home late, which spelled distraction and trouble on the night of a kill. ’ He looked the girl up and down. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. She was correct, and when I went directly to the street she had named, there you were, walking into the Butcher Shop.
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