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"So I have," replied Hogarth, glancing at Sheppard. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. Annabel Pellissier was not like the others, he said. ’ ‘Aha, you have found something out. Sheppard. Then she called a hansom and drove home.
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