’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Gerald was instantly on the alert. ‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia. “A very clear statement, madam,” he said. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. .
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