There would be no way of keeping her police questioning a secret from the entire neighborhood. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. I don’t care. " "With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin. ” Lady Ferringhall sat with half closed eyes and clenched teeth.
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