Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. My only love is for my poor lost son. “Ugh!” she said. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. Her efforts were vain. A pity, en effet, that she dare not truly desire him to rescue her. But to live at peace with your neighbour…. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. ” She lingered over her tea, and glancing around, a sudden reflection on the change in her surroundings from the scene of her last night’s supper brought a faint, humorous smile to her lips. "Devilish strange!" thought he, chuckling to himself; "queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt for his own—capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding.
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