” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. My proposition is for you to keep an eye on him, and the moment he puts on his clothes to send me a telegram, care of the HongKong Hotel. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling.
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