Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. "I don't deserve it," he said, at length; "but I would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this moment's happiness.
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