CHAPTER XXIII. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. ” Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. "Altogether unsuccessful, Sir," said the chief turnkey, with a look of disappointment, not unmixed with apprehension, as he approached Wild. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap.
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