"Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. "Do better in future. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. Would you mind drawing them back?” Ennison sprang up, but he never reached the curtains. Annabel a murderess! It was not possible.
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