” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. ” “No! Well, I just suggested it. Trodger laid down their muskets and turned on them. ” She said wistfully. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. I should like to know how it is concerned with Sir John Ferringhall, and how my presence intervenes. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion.
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