And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. Now, in her old place, she was doing her best thoroughly to enjoy a most indifferent dinner. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. He looked half at her and half at the sky. ” Ennison’s voice shook a little. You care for me a little, I know. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off.
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