And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. It was impulsive and natural. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. He brought home a few waverers to talk to them where they had no chance of getting away. " "The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth Bess.
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