Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all. I think he got sick of us and he disappeared not one week later.
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