" "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. ” Annabel shivered a little and looked around her. Reluctantly she found him beguiling after he had eaten. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly.
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