Chapter XXIII
MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST
At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Valade, who was standing by
her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown
on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented
air. "I've won, after
all. "
"It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. That was the glorious if
bewildering truth. “You do look really
nice. She stared
down at them from a high window, peering down at their
moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed
where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers
paused. Those whom he retained about his person, or placed in offices of trust, were for
the most part convicted felons, who, having returned from transportation before
their term had expired, constituted, in his opinion, the safest agents, inasmuch as
they could neither be legal evidences against him, nor withhold any portion of
the spoil of which he chose to deprive them.
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