” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. You and the girl have made it soft for him, and I'm going to make it soft for him. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. ” “Straight?” “Not a bit of it! He’s been out after eight per cent. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. Could it be him you mean?" "No.
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