“The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name. Give me my pistol and my dagger. I slaved over it, contacted half a dozen genealogy groups and came up with zilch. I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. ” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. ” “I will tell her,” Anna promised.
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