Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. That is very certain. Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows.
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