Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Her brother Roddy, who was in the motor line, came to expostulate; her sister Alice wrote. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere.
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