“It was poison—why not?” she answered. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. " "Ah, I see. FOOTNOTES: [A] At the hospital of Saint Giles for Lazars, the prisoners conveyed from the City of London towards Tyburn, there to be executed for treasons, felonies, or other trespasses, were presented with a Bowl of Ale, thereof to drink, as their last refreshing in this life. He had taken it back. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window.
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