"I'm dumb. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. I will never consent till I see him. His body went limp, and as he withdrew she ironically found herself at the doorway for the first time in her life of being truly aroused. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. What an adventure! Of course, you'll bark your shins here and there and hit your funnybone; but the newness of everything will be something of a compensation. Wood's famous 'prentice?" "What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter.
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