E. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. Easy enough. Besides, it was under false pretences. Have you anything to tell me before you go?” Annabel laughed lightly. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. ‘Do not be alarmed, Jacques. He had sufficient strength to wait upon himself.
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