Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. She was delivered home by 11:30pm. It creaked slightly. “I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. I want you to turn me. Which is the nearest way to the river?" "Why, it's an awkward road to direct you," returned Jonathan. Brendon always comes home with me, and tonight both are away. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard.
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