Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. May we not repeat them once, at any rate, in London? “Ever yours, “NIGEL ENNISON. But first, we’ve got to secure the convent. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. She had begun alone. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. ” “Let me tell you the reason you are here. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. “Oh, it is okay. He saluted awkwardly.
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