Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. Just as Jack gained the entrance, he heard a man's footstep behind him, and aware that the slightest indiscretion would betray him, he halted, uncertain what to do. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits. Annabel set her teeth hard, and turned fiercely towards Anna. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. . At other times, it would seem that the sea itself had gone away. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. Seldom they molested a woman who appeared to know where she was going and who kept her glance resolutely to the fore. ’ Roding gave a bark of derisive laughter and left the room. To-night we leave for Marseilles.
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