” Miss Miniver’s manner became impressive. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. “Quite right,” she said. Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. Well, it had to happen somewhen. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know.
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