” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. So here I am, king of all I survey, with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. Look! Is that some one coming out?” The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction. ’ Her features broke apart in a laugh. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. For she and this old lady became at once friends.
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