“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. I shall charge you five per cent. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. Prison was beastly. Now drop it. ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place.
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