Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. That night she found a ship bound to sail for the heathen nation called America. Wood, was examined. “I’ll never be happy again! I hate you! But most of all, what you have made me! A flesh-eating demon cannibal, just like you! I should be dead, dead and lying at the bottom of the sea. “I am afraid your broken dinner engagement will not be so easy to explain. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for.
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