You will go to London?” “It is necessary,” she answered. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. A moistened velvet touch found her tongue. The young lady with whom I was dining last night was Miss Anna Pellissier. It was horrible. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. ‘Am I right in supposing you to have been a sister to the late Mr Jarvis Remenham?’ ‘Quite right. Wood could stand it no longer. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. Here she seems to have developed into a brilliant woman with more character and steadfastness than I should ever have given her credit for.
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