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. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. ‘I do not believe you. It was hard to meet that gaze. " "Oh, dear!" simpered Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to hide her confusion by looking steadfastly at her plate. 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. “Not much. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. " CHAPTER XXV. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. . . At last she was roused. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily.
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