“Vee,” she said, “come home. He's as nice and civil-spoken a gentleman as need be; by the same token," she added, in an under tone, "that he gave me a span new crown piece. Do you think that I shall ever make an actress, my friend?” “I doubt it,” he answered bluntly. Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. That is my real milieu, and one that I am convinced you would not only adorn but delight in. Nicholas is dead. He did not leave much of an 17 impression. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here.
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