So she said: “I won’t come home. He proposed, he wanted to possess her! He loved her. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I THE CARPET-KNIGHT AND THE 7 LADY II THE ADVENTURE OF ANNABEL 15 III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? 20 IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN 26 ARTIST V “ALCIDE” 31 VI A QUESTION OF 36 IDENTIFICATION VII MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS 41 VIII “WHITE’S” 45 IX BRENDON’S LUCK 54 X THE TRAGEDY OF AN 61 APPETITE XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL 66 ENNISON XII THE POSTER OF “ALCIDE” 70 XIII “HE WILL NOT FORGET!” 76 XIV “THIS IS MY WIFE” 81 XV A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE 89 XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR 96 JOHN XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” 103 XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” 109 XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” 115 XX ANNA’S SURRENDER 121 XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET 126 XXII AN OLD FOOL 134 XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER 138 144 150 156 162 169 174 178 183 188 ANNA THE ADVENTURESS Chapter I THE CARPET-KNIGHT AND THE LADY The girl paused and steadied herself for a moment against a field gate. You will make him get his daughter, if you please. ’ It’s a duplicate of the French one. The walls were bare, and painted in stone-colour; the floors, devoid of carpet; the beds, of hangings; the windows, of blinds; and, excepting in the thief-taker's own audience-chamber, there was not a chair or a table about the premises; the place of these conveniences being elsewhere supplied by benches, and deal-boards laid across joint-stools. " "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack. ‘You would know more of me?’ ‘I would know everything about you,’ Gerald told her, his tone at once provocative and inviting. ‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. \" Michelle was becoming upset, and her voice took on a tone of sarcasm. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. Then, as he was trying to bite through the rope, I told him, ‘That’s for 107 Traci, motherfucker. .
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