“Go on!” she commanded. He could not quite make her out; a new type. So I am already no longer the girl you knew at Morningside Park. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. . The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol. That would be him. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. CHAPTER XX. “Have you anything to ask the witness?” asked the helpful inspector.
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