” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. The Master of the Mint. ‘Then open it quickly. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself.
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