Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. “Steady on!” he cried. We both understood that. . He hadn't followed this angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a little shrewd selfishness. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. " "And with some justice," replied Thornhill, drily. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. ” There came a silence again. “I think that I shall be the most unpopular man in London. " The girl fished into the bottle for an olive. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child.
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