More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. The Well Hole 336 XIII. “Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. When he finally telegraphed his startling information to Hong-Kong, it was too late for O'Higgins to act. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent.
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