They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. White assured her. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. Has he given you the tools?" "He has," replied Bess, producing the handkerchief. “He is quiet only this minute,” she said to the official. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none.
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