His sister appeared. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. “He seems like such a nice boy. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. He had quite enough to see to and worry about in the City without their doing things. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest.
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