“I wish. ’ ‘Entertained, he says!’ ‘Intrigued, then,’ amended Gerald equably, although truth to tell he was enjoying the mystery enormously. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. Why should God give particular attention to such a prayer, when He had ignored all others? Certainly there was a trap somewhere. If Gerald knew, what should stop Gosse from finding out? Perhaps he was even now at the lawyer. From time to time, however, he was baffled.
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