“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. In seconds, they faced each other before the altar. ‘Who have lately joined us,’ she said, adding sotto voce, ‘A very great tragedy. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few minutes before. This was no light conquest; nor was it a government easily maintained. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds.
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