Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. ‘You would know more of me?’ ‘I would know everything about you,’ Gerald told her, his tone at once provocative and inviting. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable art. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. .
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