Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. '" "What is that?" she asked. Scarcely any one noticed the full measure of her consternation. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. “Very well,” he said, “I will go.
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