“Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. To compare me to a starving pig. Coolly and gingerly, she kissed it as it stood at its hard angle from his body. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. She has no proof—yet.
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