There was no rush. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. I wondered what you could be doing and what might be happening to you. May we not repeat them once, at any rate, in London? “Ever yours, “NIGEL ENNISON. He had the air of a man who has said too much. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers.
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