” Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. “It seems to me it comes to earning one’s living in the long run,” said Ann Veronica, coloring faintly. She passed inside and upstairs without a word. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. What about your luggage?” “I could get a few of my things, at any rate,” she said. ” The topic of his invalid wife bored him, and he turned at once to Ann Veronica.
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