‘It is all the fault of that lantern. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. "I dare say she has called to inquire about Jack. I’ve bored you or something. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. “She has never 96 once contacted me. I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. Why not? Quite willing. Spurlock had not coached her on this line of conduct. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess.
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