Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. John, I have something to say to you. She raided their settlements in shifts, staggering her kills from tribe to tribe, undiscriminating of their petty politics. “You wouldn’t. Squire and master. What's it like, Joan?" "It's a small key, with curiously-fashioned wards. You foolish girl!” Ann Veronica took that in silence. The hotel manager was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive shrugs. I was sitting up, lamenting your departure, dear Thames, when, hearing an odd noise, I went to the landing, and, by the light of a dark lantern, saw Jack Sheppard, stealing up stairs, followed by two men with crape on their faces.
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