But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. ” He smiled at her. “Grail!” said Ann Veronica, and then: “Oh, yes—of course! Anything but a holy one, I’m afraid. Now, do what you please. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. She pulled, he rose to his feet. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. In mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the equivalent in money. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. My name is Annabel, not Anna. . At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted.
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