He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. Did you grow up at the Valade estates? You were born a Valade, I take it, even though your father is English. You are wrong even about that man’s scientific position and his standard of work. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul.
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