“Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. ” “You are wonderful!” she murmured. “Exceptionally so. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. And then she could see nothing at all for his lips founds hers. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom.
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