‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. He was so seldom wrong. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. “Martin Chen!” Michelle shouted his name in an outburst, like an invocation.
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