” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. "I yield to fate. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. Ruth could not be told now. She resolved to walk across the Park to the Zoological gardens, and so on by way of Primrose Hill to Hampstead Heath. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness.
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