Occasionally he relit his pipe. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. “We are so interested to hear, Miss Pellissier,” she said, “that you have been living in Paris. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you.
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