” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. “My dear Annabel,” she said, “this is delightful, but I thought that it was forbidden. Manning, with an air of emerging from an elaborate demonstration, “and so each of us must, under existing conditions, being chivalrous indeed to all women, choose for himself his own particular and worshipful queen.
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