There would be no way of keeping her police questioning a secret from the entire neighborhood. “Grail!” said Ann Veronica, and then: “Oh, yes—of course! Anything but a holy one, I’m afraid. “You are one of those who must know all about it. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. "A man!" "At your service, my dear," replied the jailer.
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