But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. Have you anything to tell me before you go?” Annabel laughed lightly. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity.
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