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” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. I sha’n’t care a rap if we can never marry. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope. He was all alone, too. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. ‘I have first some affairs to finish. Does this not disturb you?” 278 “Of course it disturbs me.
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