"To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. 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. ” Her words were slurred with sleep. ‘Come, I am concerned merely for your safety, you know. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. “You know nothing about the stage. ” She paused.
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