‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. "This Enschede—the missioner. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. Then suddenly the curtain would fall.
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