He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. Now, you know where he is bound. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said. I know nothing about the girl, save what you have told me. They don’t know who did it, actually. Sheppard, faintly. One must get them with exactly the same intensity.
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