’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. Send you the shirt. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. ‘Home?’ ‘To your family. I am sorry to seem to disobey you, but I am. He would read the jokes and illustrate them; and after a time I could see the point of a joke without having it explained to me.
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