I expect Mr. “He is addressing a meeting of his constituents somewhere,” Annabel answered. What can a girl do? Somewhere at this point Ann Veronica’s speculations were interrupted and turned aside by the approach of a horse and rider. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms. . A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. I have had a good many desperate engagements in my time, and have generally come off victorious. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. The pistol, it was not loaded.
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