If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. ‘Not kill me, I mean. She floundered deep. Jack fell on his knees beside her. ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood.
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