From midnight until morning he was now left alone. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. “This is all very well,” she said, “but two out of the three are rank deserters— and if the papers tell the truth the third is as bad. They'll be back soon enough—or not at all. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right.
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