Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. ” He paused, and went on, after a keen look at her: “I had rather gossip to a really intelligent girl than to any man alive. You don’t happen to know of any one, I suppose, who wants a nursery governess, or a clerk—without shorthand—or a tryer-on, or a copyist, or——” “For Heaven’s sake stop, Miss Pellissier,” he interrupted. I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. She entered and approached the bunk. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion.
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