Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Oh, John. “It may be more difficult than you think,” she said. In a moment they were in the street outside. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. They tried to read illustrated papers in an unconcerned manner and with forced attention, lest they should catch the leaping exultation in each other’s eyes. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx.
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