Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. " Again Ruth nodded. " "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. ” “You did not——” “Wait, Annabel! When I arrived in London I went to live in the cheapest place I could find. “That’s all,” she said “I’m afraid I’m a little confused about these things. He never seemed to take full advantage while they were in his mammoth automobile. Norris informed me," returned Charcam, respectfully; "and there's a person without, anxious for an audience, whom, with submission, I think your honour would desire to see.
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