“I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. A moistened velvet touch found her tongue. " "How did you escape?" asked Sheppard, who, as he shook off his slumber, began to recall the events of the previous night. On the left lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas, while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of the metropolis. The parlour was cluttered but cosy. This time he couldn't get far. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. ‘Why not a French flag?’ ‘Because I don’t believe that fool Pottiswick could tell French from Arabic, even if he heard it as he says he did—which I take leave to doubt. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her.
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