‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. ” Part 3 Her mind got back to the Fadden Ball. Walpole, and then to Newgate. ’” “Is ‘Alcide’ still in Paris?” Ennison asked. Now then, missie—’ ‘Bon,’ said Melusine, interrupting him without ceremony, and paying no attention to the muskets that were pointing at her from two directions. ” He shook her diminutive hand. “You shall go,” he declared. "How much is there in it!" "It contains gold," replied the lady; "but I will add this ring. The confirmed drunkard's mouth at length sets itself peculiarly; it becomes the mark by which thoughtful men know him. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I THE CARPET-KNIGHT AND THE 7 LADY II THE ADVENTURE OF ANNABEL 15 III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? 20 IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN 26 ARTIST V “ALCIDE” 31 VI A QUESTION OF 36 IDENTIFICATION VII MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS 41 VIII “WHITE’S” 45 IX BRENDON’S LUCK 54 X THE TRAGEDY OF AN 61 APPETITE XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL 66 ENNISON XII THE POSTER OF “ALCIDE” 70 XIII “HE WILL NOT FORGET!” 76 XIV “THIS IS MY WIFE” 81 XV A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE 89 XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR 96 JOHN XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” 103 XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” 109 XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” 115 XX ANNA’S SURRENDER 121 XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET 126 XXII AN OLD FOOL 134 XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER 138 144 150 156 162 169 174 178 183 188 ANNA THE ADVENTURESS Chapter I THE CARPET-KNIGHT AND THE LADY The girl paused and steadied herself for a moment against a field gate. He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had seen better days. 6. And yet, on the very site of the sordid tenements and squalid courts we have mentioned, where the felon openly made his dwelling, and the fraudulent debtor laughed the object of his knavery to scorn—on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and whose memory breathes of loyalty and valour. Then she took her sister’s hand.
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