A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. ” She breathed relief. I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. The knowledge breathed into her heart a satisfying warmth. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. A dissipated, loose-living man.
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