Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. The news that his granddaughter desired an audience Lord Charvill had greeted with merely a grunt, which turned into a roar as his gorge rose when he heard that she was accompanied by her husband. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven. He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. ’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool.
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