She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. At the sound of the door Ann Veronica uncovered a tearless face, and with one swift movement assumed a conversational attitude. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. She slid the dress off, naked underneath. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess.
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