He could scarcely blame her. . Courtlaw sat with folded arms. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. ” “He imposed on me,” Annabel continued.
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