Katy had sneered at her for a moment, their eyes locking. As pretty as its owner. Surely he was imagining this picture. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. Directed by the same individual, who had helped Darrell to steal a march upon him, Rowland, with Davies, and another attendant, continued the pursuit. The situation bothered him considerably. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. She stared at him.
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