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Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. " "Perhaps not," replied Jack, to whom an idea had suddenly occurred. She had begun alone. Aware of the cunning and desperate characters of the persons with whom she would have to deal,—aware, also, that she was in a quarter where no laws could be appealed to, nor assistance obtained, she felt the absolute necessity of caution. "Stolen by a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of society. She opened her eyes. Stanley determined to improve the occasion. Both carried packages of books and magazines. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. Anna came back into the sitting-room with a little sigh of relief. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly.
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