” “You do not deny that you are my wife,” he asked hoarsely. 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. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. He fixed it. They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. ” “This,” Anna declared, as she sipped her wine and looked around her, “reminds me more of Paris than any place I have yet seen. We dressed it in a little music. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park. Is there anything you'd like?" "Books. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms.
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