Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. “I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. I was curious about that. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. We've got to get him to care. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. ” “But why didn’t you prohibit once for all the whole thing? How dared she tell you that?” “Out of defiance. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. And don't neglect my instructions this time.
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