” “That’s rather a fine sort of holiday!” He made no answer for three or four seconds. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. The charm of innocence breathes around her, as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her lightest thought and action, and shielding her, like a spell, from the approach of evil. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. “You’re still,” he said, “in the educational years. ” “And I have been dreaming and thinking—” “I am frightfully sorry.
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