” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English Club on the following evening. Now do not make me any more arguments, but tell me at once where that pig is gone. Here, Caliban, attend to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return. "I knew that would bring him to," thought Wild. "Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. But they were too late. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. The vicomte has, he say, enough femmes in his hands. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly.
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