He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. " "May I trust you?" cried Thames, eagerly. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. Now, let’s get down to business. ‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. You have taken my dagger. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. “I wish you would come and see my lawyers.
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