\" Diane chirped once again, ever-musical. . “Damned Rascal!” he said. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. Don’t try. But there was a face pressed to the glass. I shall charge you five per cent. I was forced to lay on a bed of nails for three days. I’m taking no chances. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair.
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