Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. “I will do whatever you want,” said Ann Veronica. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. He was not able to recognize, as the doctor did, that she was only a natural woman. But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society.
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