Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Ten days should see you on your feet. There was a fourth story; but he never told either Ruth or McClintock about this. His foot touched the rounded edge of the starling, and glanced off, precipitating him into the water. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. He was in front of one of the more imposing of the cafés chantants—opposite, illuminated with a whole row of lights, was the wonderful poster which had helped to make ‘Alcide’ famous. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. . A little Cockney recovered it, and made ridiculous attempts to get to her and replace it. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered.
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