” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English Club on the following evening. " "Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. ‘Here she is. I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. We two. “To the best of my belief, I have never seen the man in my life. Now, however, as Gerald watched them, their heads were together and they were murmuring in French. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains, and openly despised golf. It wasn't worth while to invest imaginatively a man with evil projects simply because he was physically ugly. ‘Soldier of fortune. ” “I never felt so absolutely right,” said Ann Veronica. In my search after strange characters, Mr.
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