Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. She was listed for the raid—she was informed it was to be a raid upon the House of Commons, though no particulars were given her—and told to go alone to 14, Dexter Street, Westminster, and not to ask any policeman to direct her. It was a large room, about twenty feet long and fifteen broad, and had an arched stone roof. She wanted to be on with the show. The next door neighbor's dog, chained outside, let out a single bark, but was silent as soon as she turned in that direction, instinctively afraid. The two sisters were very fond of one another, I believe. Anyhow, that is how things are. ToC Sir Rowland, meantime, paced his chamber with a quick and agitated step. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room.
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