Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. And now I break the seals—for you. So I come round the other way and—Lordy, miss, I’m that sorry I made a mull of it. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle.
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