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Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. Socks and shoes were harder to find, and she ended up wearing men’s athletic tube socks and a pair of dust caked flip-flops that had sat forlornly in Locker 49 since 1978. "Farewell for ever," said Jack, extending his hand to Mrs. I forget. "You are my prisoner. "I wish to overtake Lady Trafford.
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