"So endeth the first lesson," he said. "I've the Bridewell account to settle. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. "I have dreamed that I shall see him before I die," she rejoined. Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek. As pretty as its owner. “I know the place you mean—very good cooking for such an out-of-the-way show. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. ‘She’s wearing a lightskirt’s clothing?’ ‘Nothing obviously so, I assure you. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Still —there you are!” He paused.
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