" "I wish you hadn't mentioned her," said Jack, in a broken voice, while his whole frame shook with emotion. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. A moistened velvet touch found her tongue. Hours were spent in preparation for the event. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours.
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