He waved to her. The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. ” He looked at her, his eyes illuminated by the glow of the dashboard. He thought for a moment, and went on: “Love is something that has to be taken care of. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp. Good night! God bless you!" Upon this, there was a great shaking of hands, with renewed apologies and protestations of friendship on both sides; after which Mr. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room.
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