The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. ” He was strangely silent. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. But she must stop him getting away. She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. ’ ‘Ah, that was an affair altogether different,’ she explained and fluttered her long lashes at him.
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