Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. “It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. " "What's he know about copra and native talk?" "Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. ” That conversation ended and he turned to her again. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence.
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