Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off. On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. Now he thought she was so foolish that she knew only one stroke. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. Neither of them believed me. ‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Bring the light this way—quick! I cannot decipher the signature. Ann Veronica had come to the Imperial College obsessed by the great figure of Russell, by the part he had played in the Darwinian controversies, and by the resolute effect of the grim-lipped, yellow, leonine face beneath the mane of silvery hair. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully.
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