Martin said “Hi” to her in the halls every day now, a sure sign of trouble. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. “I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. This is altogether insupportable. ” She saw him there the next week at the same time. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away.
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