’ ‘No, miss,’ cut in Kimble. Ann Veronica, after a last survey of the dinner appointments, followed him, rustling, came to his side by the high brass fender, and touched two or three ornaments on the mantel above the cheerful fireplace. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. So this was what it was all about. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. ” “Bring her—here,” Hill muttered.
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