“I might go home, I don’t know. ’ He smiled down at her. . I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. Anna watched her with curious eyes. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. Those were great tricks that you pulled with the car and the glass, but why shouldn’t I believe that this has all been an elaborate hoax?” He asked. He turned. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free.
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