But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. Loneliness. Sir John heard gossip about us—about Anna the recluse, a paragon of virtue, and Annabel alias ‘Alcide’ a dancer at the cafés chantants, and concerning whom there were many stories which were false, and a few—which were true. She got a bun and some cocoa in the little refreshment-room, and then wandered through the galleries up-stairs, crowded with Polynesian idols and Polynesian dancinggarments, and all the simple immodest accessories to life in Polynesia, to a seat among the mummies. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. ‘It is the life I know. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses.
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