You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. . A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. He did not speak for a moment. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Pure luck! But for that bottle of whisky, nobody in the Hong-Kong Hotel would have been able to identify the photograph; and at this hour James Boyle O'Higgins would have been on the way to Yokohama, and the trail lost for ever. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death.
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