“Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. The light fell upon the fugitive, who stood before him in an attitude of defence, with the child in his arms. They fell in a diapason of smashes. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. “I throw it out in passing,” he said. ” “Of course not,” Anna said. It was a letter. “Soon enough, John. But it is the truth. ‘He was our first commander, and a more stiff-necked—’ ‘Exactly so,’ concurred Lady Bicknacre. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. ’ He bowed slightly, and indicated the house behind them with a wave of his hand. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory.
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