“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. "Very well. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker. ‘Expect? He’s had a twenty-four hour watch on Remenham House these two days. She could not help thinking of Capes. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet.
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