“What were you doing?” Her voice was a little hysterical. . Some doting parent had taught him well. ‘Not here. . He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. He had not considered this aspect of the business. “I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. The Disguise 261 VI. Miss Mary to the life.
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