‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No. And thus he was once more free, having effected one of the most wonderful escapes ever planned or accomplished. Give me your hand. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. “I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. Wily little devil she is. I didn't think. It throbs cruelly. She got to the driveway and was semi-surprised to see that his car was gone.
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