She was thinking fast now, all her senses on the alert. But in a moment she believed she understood. Think of those days in Paris. You are too credulous. I knew where I would go next: Florence. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. He returned, blue towel in hand. No girl with a face like that…. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. He hesitated. “It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green.
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