"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. “Of course I will,” he answered. . Brown engaged in the usual browbeating and complaining he reserved for sections who came in late and soloists who left tempo behind like the leftovers of a Sunday picnic. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. He is not in a state of mind to bear it.
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