” Ann Veronica did. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. " There was a momentary and terrible silence, broken only by a few feeble groans. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. .
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