‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. ‘You think I am like that Valade? No, a thousand times. I got a rusty bolt cutter. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. Her back arched slightly in response. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality.
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