Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. “Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. Saw the villain through the keyhole. The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. ” “To a friend?” “To lodgings—alone. So far as I am concerned, I am just now a hopeless nonentity. We’re regarded as inflammable litter that mustn’t be left about. It is no fault of your own that you are not at this moment standing there with your head blown off. Please yourself. “I thought you wanted to have a talk to me,” she said. That’s probably true. . To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling.
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