Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. I almost died from this flu. What a pig she was. ‘He is not in England, you understand. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. She gloried in it: he needed her. Why, is the question I would like answered.
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