‘Me, I have a name. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. ‘Um—begging your pardon, sir, but—um—what was you meaning to arrest the young lady for?’ ‘Trespassing, theft, and suspicion of spying,’ announced Roding fluently. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure.
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