It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. “Your name and address were upon an envelope found in the pocket of an Englishman who was brought here late last night suffering from serious injuries,” he said in a dry official tone. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. Fire; she was full of it. If they had any idea the concerts he had seen, they would have known the quality of her playing. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. “The first is to discover what she is here for, and where she is staying. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. Practically all. A few more minutes, and she was safe. Shall I make an appointment for you?” Miss Kitty Brett was one of the most conspicuous leaders of the movement. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words.
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