“I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica to the darkness; “I’ll fight it. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. But he would die if he continued in this course. ‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. Amid this portentous hush, the report of a pistol reached the carpenter's ears; and, raising his head at the sound, he beheld a sight which filled him with fresh apprehensions. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. “Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. She hesitated about her name, and, being prompted, gave it at last as Ann Veronica Smith, 107A, Chancery Lane.
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