“Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. “You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. “My name,” Anna replied calmly, “is certainly Pellissier, but I repeat that I do not know you. His feet would have the firm texture of his hands. If we were set upon I could not defend you.
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