A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. ” “You remembered. "But what, may I ask, arouses the thought?" The doctor was in high good humour. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it.
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