“Miserable bounder,” he murmured. He was even a little jealous of Sebastian. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. Her answer was not quite ready. I don’t quite know why. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. “There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said.
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