"He's audacity enough for anything. But not so much a pig as that man. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. ‘So I shall do so. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once.
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