It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. I thought Bess would have cried her pretty eyes out when she heard you was nabbed. It jars with all my ideas. I admit it. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. “Stuffy these trees make the Avenue,” said Mr.
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