Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. “Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began. ” “Isn’t it. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink.
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