Then she looked up at Brendon. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly. Where was the harm in letting her go? She could not get far. God help me. He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car. Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. I’ve called half a dozen times at her flat, and she won’t see me. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. Annabel thought, and thought again. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. He was a Wiltshire Edmondshaw, a very old family. . Anna left the room on tiptoe.
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