“To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw. While waiting for his coming she had stated her present and future relations with him with what had seemed to her the most satisfactory lucidity and completeness. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter.
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