Entranced, he stared
at the name. To think of him as loving her would make all that
different. “Of course it is, Anna. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the
‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in
London?”
“The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with
rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. Last week. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she
had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. ”
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. I met you here as Lady Ferringhall. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her
expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him.
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