CHAPTER 8Mr. Codrington’s interview was not going according to plan—at least not to any plan of Philip’s. The offer of the late Miss Theresa Jocelyn’s thirty thousand pounds in return for a receipt signed Annie Joyce had been as lightly and smilingly refused as if it had been a cucumber sandwich.
“Dear Mr. Codrington—how could I! It wouldn’t be legal—I mean, I couldn’t sign poor Annie’s name—”
“Philip never intended to keep this money—” He bit his lip. He ought to have said Sir Philip—if he was talking to Annie Joyce he would certainly do so. He found it impossible to believe that he was talking to Annie Joyce. He found it impossible to believe that he was not talking to Anne Jocelyn.
She sat just across the hearth from him, her long slim legs stretched out to the fire, her head with it
