“Annabel at last,” he shouted. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. It is customary even where an agreement is drawn. . She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. She lied. . ’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard. It was better even than the hymn-singing. . ” “Quite true,” she answered briskly, “and thanks to you I have succeeded. "Good-bye, young man; and good luck.
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