"To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. . There was a coffee equipage on the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made up. ” “I don’t know who you are,” Ennison said quietly, “but you are a thundering liar. ‘This is a private house,’ Hilary said severely, ‘and you are trespassing. It filled her with indefinable fear.
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