” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. ” “May I ask,” Anna said softly, “what you presume to have been the nature of my errand here this evening?” Sir John pointed to Annabel, who was as yet utterly limp. Queer old gentleman! The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge. She looked at him curiously. He had. He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. Her thoughts took words for themselves. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault.
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