She is more dear to me than anything else. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. I thought that you were he. I do not wish to return to Paris. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00. Aroused by the sound of the church bells, he resolved, at whatever risk, to attend Divine service. " "You did right," returned Trenchard. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it.
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