Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. ’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. No other white people within twenty miles.
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