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Updated: May 6, 2025
"The ones Cariolus did for me." "The posters at least," Anna answered quietly, "I have some claim to. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw's study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. You denied it at the time but unfortunately I have proof. Mr. Courtlaw found the study in Cariolus' studio." Annabel laughed hardly. "What did it matter?" she cried.
She told you the truth." Courtlaw's walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. Sir John felt and looked several years younger. "I am much obliged to you," he said. "Really, I do not know why I should have doubted it." "Nor I," she remarked tersely. He looked at her with a certain curiosity.
The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. It was a letter. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. The commissionaire smiled. It was a sovereign easily earned. The hansom drove off. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw's burning fingers.
Courtlaw's voice sank to a whisper. A nurse was at the other end of the room. "There was an accident with a pistol in Miss Pellissier's room," he said. The light of memory flashed in the man's face. His brows drew a little nearer together. "Accident! She shot me," he muttered. "I had found her at last, and she shot me. Listen, you. Am I going to die?"
Courtlaw's I should like to oblige Mr. Courtlaw." "It is very nice of you to think of it," Anna said briskly. "I should really like to find somewhere to stay, if it was only for a few nights." The lady stood away from the door. "Will you come this way," she said, "into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. Most of my people are upstairs dressing for dinner.
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