The rest of his attire was nondescript. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. ’ He paused for the effect of his words to sink in, and then added, ‘Don’t be so ready to show hackle. “Call me Annabel. The Jacobite. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. “I’ve got—I have to tell you this to make myself clear—a streak of ardent animal in my composition. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully.
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