Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. 1. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin. Wood struck me a blow which made me a robber. I had a hard fight to begin with to win my way into the Upper Division—I was third on a list of fortyseven—and since then I have found myself promoted almost yearly in a widening sphere of social service.
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