“Beats me. I keep my finger on the pulse of things. And, though it's a long time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. He screamed in pain, doubling over with a howl as she stumbled out of the bed. The room was dark and dusty. When he beheld Jack he uttered a deep groan. She opened the door to him herself. We WERE thieves. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily.
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