Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. “This is the slavery of the veiled life. It is picturesquely situated beneath a tree on the high road, not far from the little hostel before mentioned, and at no great distance from the church. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past.
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