“She is living there now,” she remarked. ” Just then the man’s eyes opened. “I’ve been following you for many years. He hanged your first husband. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. " "And what is that?" "I have relatives not far from Hartford. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company.
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