Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. 266 She peered up at him. “You are in luck, Miss Pellissier,” he declared. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect.
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