” “That’s rather the theory now,” said Ann Veronica. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. The procession now wound its way, without further interruption, along Holborn. But when she spoke her lips quivered, and they came. She was alone with a deadly enemy. It was dated from the House of Commons on the previous day. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. For a time I must do journalism and work hard. " CHAPTER XI.
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