She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. "Oh! he'll be after you directly. “I don’t think I shall. "You'll not forget the thousand, Sir Rowland—short accounts, you know. ” Anna shivered a little. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words.
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