” She controlled a sob. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. “Yes.
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