And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. " "No," answered the ruffian, moodily.
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