The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. Nor did he content himself with declaring his guiltlessness of the crime imputed to him, but began in his turn to menace his captor and accuser, loading the latter with the bitterest upbraidings. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England. You care for me a little, I know.
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