” His walk became a jovial saunter. During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. “It really is not necessary. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified.
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