It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. It was years before your time. ” She glared at him balefully. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. Her aunt returned before the packing was done, and Ann Veronica lunched with an uneasy sense of bag and hold-all packed up-stairs and inadequately hidden from chance intruders by the valance of the bed.
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