” “You have nothing to tell me?” “Nothing!” So Annabel departed with the slightest of farewells, wearing a thick travelling veil, and sitting far back in the corner of a closed carriage. "Bravo!" cried the thief-taker approvingly. What was to happen now? She turned to Roding quickly. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. . She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better.
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