She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. She shut her lips hard, her jaw hardened, and she set herself to struggle with him. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat.
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