‘Certainly you are imbecile. I have since received a most extraordinary letter from her. . Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. A small voice greeted her, hissing.
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