” “Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice about it. and Mrs. “And that only brings me up to about sixty-five! “A glittering wilderness of time That to the sunset reaches No keel as yet its waves has ploughed Or gritted on its beaches. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. ’ ‘It’s no use blaming me, Gerald,’ uttered Roding, shrugging helplessly as his senior turned questioning eyes on him. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. ‘It does not matter, Jacques.
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