"Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. “Please don’t be sad. The late afternoon, en effet. The vengeance of the assailants did not stop here. After all, you may easily come to fetch Mrs Ibstock when you need her.
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