You heard her. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. CHAPTER II. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. She felt like a dried-up old woman. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent. "I witnessed the bet. I like such interviews. ’ ‘I didn’t bring him,’ Gerald returned swiftly.
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