Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. The Storm. Michelle had warned her of the girl, calling her “Bitchster”. She saw his eyes glaze over. It was a society column about the richest men in the world and their lavish parties. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face. "You must not remain here," he said.
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