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Phillips Oppenheim + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Anna the Adventuress + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + +Release Date: September 11, 2008 [EBook #26596] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANNA THE ADVENTURESS *** + + + + +Produced by D. Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="smallgap"> </p> + +<h1>ANNA<br /> +THE ADVENTURESS</h1> + +<p class="smallgap"> </p> + +<h3>By</h3> + +<h2>E. Phillips Oppenheim</h2> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF “THE SECRET”, “THE TRAITORS”, ETC.</p> + +<p class="gap"> </p> + +<h3>WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED</h3> +<h4>LONDON AND MELBOURNE</h4> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<h4>MADE IN ENGLAND</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Printed in Great Britain by C. Tinling & Co., Ltd.,</i><br /> +<i>Liverpool, London and Prescot.</i></p> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<h2><span class="smcap">About the Story</span></h2> + +<p>Annabel Pellissier, for reasons of her own, allows Sir John +Ferringhall to believe that she is her sister Anna. Anna lets the +deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s +reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette. +Endless complications ensue when both sisters return to London.</p> + +<p>This is one of the late E. Phillips Oppenheim’s most intriguing +stories.</p> + +<hr class="large" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="1" summary="CONTENTS"> + +<tr> +<td align="right">CHAPTER</td> +<td> </td> +<td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I</td> +<td align="left">THE CARPET-KNIGHT AND THE LADY</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#ANNA_THE_ADVENTURESS">7</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II</td> +<td align="left">THE ADVENTURE OF ANNABEL</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_II">15</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III</td> +<td align="left">ANNA? OR ANNABEL?</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_III">20</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV</td> +<td align="left">THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_IV">26</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V</td> +<td align="left">“ALCIDE”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_V">31</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI</td> +<td align="left">A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_VI">36</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII</td> +<td align="left">MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_VII">41</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VIII</td> +<td align="left">“WHITE’S”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_VIII">45</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IX</td> +<td align="left">BRENDON’S LUCK</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_IX">54</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">X</td> +<td align="left">THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_X">61</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XI</td> +<td align="left">THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XI">66</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XII</td> +<td align="left">THE POSTER OF “ALCIDE”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XII">70</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIII</td> +<td align="left">“HE WILL NOT FORGET!”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XIII">76</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIV</td> +<td align="left">“THIS IS MY WIFE”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XIV">81</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XV</td> +<td align="left">A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XV">89</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XVI</td> +<td align="left">THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XVI">96</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XVII</td> +<td align="left">THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XVII">103</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XVIII</td> +<td align="left">ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XVIII">109</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIX</td> +<td align="left">“THIS IS NOT THE END”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XIX">115</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XX</td> +<td align="left">ANNA’S SURRENDER</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XX">121</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXI</td> +<td align="left">HER SISTER’S SECRET</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXI">126</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXII</td> +<td align="left">AN OLD FOOL</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXII">134</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXIII</td> +<td align="left">MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXIII">138</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXIV</td> +<td align="left">A CASE FOR THE POLICE</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXIV">144</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXV</td> +<td align="left">THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXV">150</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXVI</td> +<td align="left">ANNABEL IS WARNED</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXVI">156</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXVII</td> +<td align="left">JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXVII">162</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXVIII</td> +<td align="left">THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXVIII">169</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXIX</td> +<td align="left">MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXIX">174</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXX</td> +<td align="left">SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXX">178</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXXI</td> +<td align="left">ANNA’S TEA PARTY</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXXI">183</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXXII</td> +<td align="left">SIX MONTHS AFTER</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Chapter_XXXII">188</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ANNA_THE_ADVENTURESS" id="ANNA_THE_ADVENTURESS"></a>ANNA THE ADVENTURESS</h2> + +<h2><i>Chapter I</i></h2> + +<h3>THE CARPET-KNIGHT AND THE LADY</h3> + +<p>The girl paused and steadied herself for a moment against a field +gate. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. Her dainty shoes +were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. Very +slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. Her cheeks were the +colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. If a cart were +coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was +impossible.</p> + +<p>The terror faded from her eyes. A faint gleam of returning colour gave +her at once a more natural appearance. So far as the eye could reach, +the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. Away +off in the fields the blue-smocked peasants bent still at their toil. +They had heard nothing, seen nothing. A few more minutes, and she was +safe.</p> + +<p>Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled +herself with an effort to look where it had happened. A dark mass of +wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the +ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of +which the bark had been torn and stripped. A few yards further off +something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity +twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Again the chalky pallor spread +even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. She +withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. Away up +on the hillside was the little country railway station. She fixed her +eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow +of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the +valley for the white smoke of the train.</p> + +<p>She reached the station, and mingling with a crowd of excursionists +who had come from the river on the other side, took her place in the +train unnoticed. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. +Until the last moment she was afraid.</p> + +<p>Arrived in Paris she remembered that she had not the money for a +<i>fiacre</i>. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she +made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>seat.</p> + +<p>She had not at first the power for concealment. Her nerves were +shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. She sat there, a +mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering +glances. Paris was full, and it was by no means a retired spot which +she had found. Yet she never once thought of changing it. A person of +somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her +life perfectly natural. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, +fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was +continually attracting.</p> + +<p>Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. He +was perhaps forty-five years of age. He was dressed with the utmost +care, and he set his feet upon the broad walk as though the action +were in some way a condescension. He was alert, well-groomed, and +yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was +a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. He too looked +at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his +eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally +came to a dead stop. He scratched his upper lip reflectively.</p> + +<p>It was a habit of his to talk to himself. In the present case it did +not matter, as there was no one else within earshot.</p> + +<p>“Dear me!” he said. “Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do. She is +English! I am sure of that. She is English, and apparently in some +distress. I wonder——”</p> + +<p>He turned slowly round. He was inclined to be a good-natured person, +and he had no nervous fears of receiving a snub. The girl was pretty, +and apparently a lady.</p> + +<p>“She cannot be aware,” he continued, “that she is making herself +conspicuous. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a +hint—a fellow countrywoman too. I trust that she will not +misunderstand me. I believe—I believe that I must risk it.”</p> + +<p>He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice +lowered to a convenient pitch.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a +fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. Can I be of any +assistance? I can assure you that it would give me very much +pleasure.”</p> + +<p>Her first upward glance was one of terrified apprehension. When she +saw however that this man was a stranger, and obviously harmless, her +expression changed as though by magic. A delicate flush of colour +streamed into her cheeks. Her eyes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>fell, and then sought his again +with timid interest. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. She +began to act.</p> + +<p>“You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I +don’t think that I know you, do I?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he +meant to be encouraging. “You remind me of the story which they tell +against us over here, you know—of the Englishman who refused to be +saved from drowning because he was unacquainted with his rescuer. +Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John +Ferringhall.”</p> + +<p>There was genuine interest in her eyes now. Sir John saw it, and was +flattered.</p> + +<p>“You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. “Yes, I remember you +now. You were pointed out to me at—a few nights ago.”</p> + +<p>He was not in the least surprised. A millionaire and a knight, even +though his money has been made in carpets, is used to being a person +of interest.</p> + +<p>“Very likely,” he answered. “I am fairly well known here. I must +apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance +certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you +were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by.”</p> + +<p>The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners +of her mouth—humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. As though +accidentally she swept her skirts from a chair close drawn to her own. +Sir John hesitated. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite +sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public +a place. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the +vacant chair. Prudence reminded him that he was a county magistrate, +and parliamentary candidate for a somewhat difficult borough, where +his principal supporters were dissenters of strict principles who took +a zealous interest in his moral character. He temporized, and the girl +raised her eyes once more to his.</p> + +<p>“You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, +are you not?” she remarked. “My father’s sisters used once to live in +the old manor house. I believe you have had it pulled down, have you +not?”</p> + +<p>“The Misses Pellissier!” he exclaimed. “Then your name——”</p> + +<p>“My name is Pellissier. My father was Colonel Pellissier. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>He had an +appointment in Jersey, you know, after he left the army.”</p> + +<p>Sir John did not hesitate any longer. He sat down.</p> + +<p>“Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary. I——”</p> + +<p>Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. He was not +quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. He would have risen +again, but for the significance of the action.</p> + +<p>“Dear me!” he said. “Then some of your family history is known to me. +One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London.”</p> + +<p>The girl nodded.</p> + +<p>“She is living there now,” she remarked.</p> + +<p>“Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother.”</p> + +<p>“Two years ago,” she answered. “They died within a few months of one +another.”</p> + +<p>“Very sad—very sad indeed,” he remarked uneasily. “I remember hearing +something about it. I believe that the common report was that you and +your sister had come to Paris to study painting.”</p> + +<p>She assented gently.</p> + +<p>“We have a small studio,” she murmured, “in the Rue de St. Pierre.”</p> + +<p>Sir John looked at her sideways. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, +the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and +girlish. After all, this could never be the black sheep. He had been +quite right to sit down. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his +instincts betrayed him. He breathed a little sigh of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. We +are not altogether strangers, are we? I feel that under the +circumstances I have the right to offer you my advice, and if +necessary my help. I beg that you will consider me your friend.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. It was +such an unexpected stroke of fortune. Sir John was not used to such +glances, and he liked them.</p> + +<p>“It is so difficult,” she murmured, “so impossible to explain. Even to +my own brother—if I had one—I could not tell everything, and you, +although you are so kind, you are almost a stranger, aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“No, no!” he protested. “You must not think of me as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>one. Try and +consider me your elder brother, or an old family friend, whichever you +like best.”</p> + +<p>She thanked him with one of her shy little glances. More than ever Sir +John was glad that he had sat down.</p> + +<p>“It is very, very difficult,” she continued, looking steadfastly at +the ground. “Only—I have come face to face—with something terrible, +and wholly unexpected trouble. I want to leave Paris to-day—this very +day. I want to leave it for ever.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her very gravely.</p> + +<p>“But your sister?” he asked. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with +her?”</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>“No,” she answered. “I have not quarrelled with her. It is simply our +point of view which is altogether different. I want to get away—to go +to London. I cannot explain beyond that.”</p> + +<p>“Then I am sure,” Sir John declared, “that I shall not ask you. I know +nothing about the matter, but I feel convinced that you are right. You +ought to have had better advice two years ago. Paris is not the place +for two young girls. I presume that you have been living alone?”</p> + +<p>She sighed gently.</p> + +<p>“My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. She is Bohemian to the +finger-tips. She makes me feel terribly old-fashioned.”</p> + +<p>Sir John smiled and congratulated himself upon his insight. He was so +seldom wrong.</p> + +<p>“The next question, Miss Anna,” he said, “is how am I to help you? I +am wholly at your disposal.”</p> + +<p>She looked up at him quickly. Her expression was a little changed, +less innocent, more discerning.</p> + +<p>“Anna!” she repeated. “How do you know—why do you think that my name +is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way.</p> + +<p>“I think,” he said, “that I am right. I am very good at guessing +names.”</p> + +<p>“I am really curious,” she persisted. “You must have heard—have +you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. “Have you heard things?”</p> + +<p>The tears stood in her eyes. She leaned a little towards him. Nothing +but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible +constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but +unmistakable evidence of his sympathy.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>little +indiscreet. It is nothing at all for you to worry about.”</p> + +<p>She looked away from him.</p> + +<p>“I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would +talk.”</p> + +<p>He coughed gently.</p> + +<p>“It was inevitable,” he declared. “It is not, of course, a pleasant +subject of conversation for you or for me, yet I think I may venture +to suggest to you that your sister’s—er—indiscretions—have reached +a point which makes a separation between you almost a necessity.”</p> + +<p>She covered her face with her hands.</p> + +<p>“It—it—must come,” she faltered.</p> + +<p>“I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of +insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your +present cause of distress.”</p> + +<p>“You are wonderful!” she murmured.</p> + +<p>He smiled complacently.</p> + +<p>“Not at all. This is simply a chapter of coincidences. Now what I want +you to feel is this. I want you to feel that you have found a friend +who has a strong desire to be of service to you. Treat me as an elder +brother, if you like. He is here by your side. How can he help you?”</p> + +<p>She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, +carpet-merchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, +deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. Perhaps the Parisian +atmosphere had affected him. He leaned towards her, laid his hand +tenderly upon hers.</p> + +<p>“I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, +“that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. You must let me do +whatever I can for you. I shall count it a privilege.”</p> + +<p>“I believe you,” she murmured. “I trust you altogether. I am going to +take you entirely at your word. I want to leave Paris to-day. Will you +lend me the money for my ticket to London?”</p> + +<p>“With all the pleasure in the world,” he answered heartily. “Let me +add too that I am thankful for your decision. You have somewhere to go +to in London, I hope.”</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>“There is my aunt,” she said. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. +She will take me in until I can make some plans. It will be horribly +dull, and she is a very trying person. But anything is better than +this.”</p> + +<p>He took out his watch.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p><p>“Let me see,” he said. “Your best route will be via Boulogne and +Folkestone at nine o’clock from the Gare du Nord. What about your +luggage?”</p> + +<p>“I could get a few of my things, at any rate,” she said. “My sister is +sure to be out.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” he said. “It is just six o’clock now. Supposing you fetch +what you can, and if you will allow me, I will see you off. It would +give me great pleasure if you would dine with me somewhere first.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her +wrinkled forehead. It was excellently done, especially as she loved +good dinners.</p> + +<p>“You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think +perhaps—that I had better not?”</p> + +<p>He smiled indulgently.</p> + +<p>“My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. I am +almost old enough to be your father.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him with uplifted eyebrows—a look of whimsical +incredulity. Sir John felt that after all forty-five was not so very +old.</p> + +<p>“That sounds quite absurd,” she answered. “Yet it is my last evening, +and I think—if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I +will risk it.”</p> + +<p>“We will go to a very quiet place,” he assured her, “a place where I +have often taken my own sisters. You will be wearing your travelling +dress, and no doubt you would prefer it. Shall we say at half-past +seven?”</p> + +<p>She rose from her chair.</p> + +<p>“I will take a carriage,” she said, “and fetch my things.”</p> + +<p>“Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at +half-past seven then,” he decided. “I shall be waiting for you there, +and in the meantime, if you will help yourself—pray don’t look like +that. It is a very small affair, after all, and you can pay me back if +you will.”</p> + +<p>She took the pocket-book and looked up at him with a little impulsive +movement. Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting.</p> + +<p>“I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. “I shall never be able to +thank you.”</p> + +<p>“Won’t you postpone the attempt, then?” he said gallantly, “until I +have done something to deserve your gratitude? You will not +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>forget—seven-thirty, Café Maston, Boulevard des Italiennes.”</p> + +<p>She drove off in a little <i>fiacre</i>, nodding and smiling at Sir John, +who remained upon the Avenue. He too, when she had disappeared, called +a carriage.</p> + +<p>“Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. “If only her +sister is half as pretty, no wonder that she has set the Parisians +talking.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_II" id="Chapter_II"></a><i>Chapter II</i></h2> + +<h3>THE ADVENTURE OF ANNABEL</h3> + +<p>The man spoke mercilessly, incisively, as a surgeon. Only he hated the +words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his +lips. Opposite, his pupil stood with bowed head and clasped hands.</p> + +<p>“You have the temperament,” he said. “You have the ideas. Your first +treatment of a subject is always correct, always suggestive. But of +what avail is this? You have no execution, no finish. You lack only +that mechanical knack of expression which is the least important part +of an artist’s equipment, but which remains a tedious and absolute +necessity. We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I—and we +have failed. It is better to face the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Much better,” she agreed. “Oh, much better.”</p> + +<p>“Personally,” he went on, “I must confess to a great disappointment. I +looked upon you from the first as the most promising of my pupils. I +overlooked the mechanical imperfections of your work, the utter lack +of finish, the crudeness of your drawing. I said to myself, ‘this will +come.’ It seems that I was mistaken. You cannot draw. Your fingers are +even now as stiff as a schoolgirl’s. You will never be able to draw. +You have the ideas. You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, +but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will +not be painting. Take my advice. Burn your palette and your easel. +Give up your lonely hours of work here. Look somewhere else in life. +Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. Here you only waste +your time.”</p> + +<p>She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could +not see her face. He drew a little breath of relief. The worst was +over now. He continued tenderly, almost affectionately.</p> + +<p>“After all, there are great things left in the world for you. Painting +is only one slender branch of the great tree. To-night all this may +seem hard and cruel. To-morrow you will feel like a freed woman. +To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things.”</p> + +<p>A man of infinite tact and kindness, he spoke his message and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>went. +The girl, with a little moan, crossed the room and threw open the +window.</p> + +<p>She looked steadfastly out. Paris, always beautiful even in the +darkness, glittered away to the horizon. The lights of the Champs +Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, +seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool +background of the night. She stood there with white set face and +nervously clenched fingers. The echo of those kindly words seemed +still to ring in her ears. She was crushed with a sense of her own +terrible impotency. A failure! She must write herself down a failure! +At her age, with her ambitions, with her artistic temperament and +creative instincts, she was yet to be denied all coherent means of +expression. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of +talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas +cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. Her finger-nails dug into her +flesh. It was the bitterest moment of her life. She flung herself back +into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. In a momentary +fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the +easel. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower. It was +the end, she told herself, fiercely. And then, as she stood there, +with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught +upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a +light tune.</p> + +<p>The newcomer stopped short upon the threshold.</p> + +<p>“Anna! What tragedy has happened, little sister? No lights, no supper, +no coffee—and, above all, no Mr. Courtlaw. How dreary it all looks. +Never mind. Come and help me pack. I’m off to England.”</p> + +<p>“Annabel, are you mad? To England! You are joking, of course. But come +in, dear. I will light the stove, and there shall be some coffee +presently.”</p> + +<p>“Coffee! Bah!”</p> + +<p>The newcomer picked her way across the floor with daintily uplifted +skirts, and subsided into a deck chair of stretched canvas.</p> + +<p>“I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she +exclaimed. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure +you. It has been a marvellous day—and I am going to England.”</p> + +<p>Anna looked at her sister gravely. Even in her painting smock and with +her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was +marvellous.</p> + +<p>“The adventures I do not doubt, Annabel,” she said. “They <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>seem to +come to you as naturally as disappointment—to other people. But to +England! What has happened, then?”</p> + +<p>Already the terror of a few hours ago seemed to have passed away from +the girl who leaned back so lazily in her chair, watching the tip of +her patent shoe swing backwards and forwards. She could even think of +what had happened. Very soon she would be able to forget it.</p> + +<p>“Happened! Oh, many things,” she declared indolently. “The most +important is that I have a new admirer.”</p> + +<p>The wonderful likeness between the two girls was never less noticeable +than at that moment. Anna stood looking down upon her sister with +grave perturbed face. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of +insolent <i>abandon</i> in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never +flinched or drooped. One realized indeed then where the differences +lay; the tender curves about Anna’s mouth transformed into hard sharp +lines in Annabel’s, the eyes of one, truthful and frank, the other’s +more beautiful but with less expression—windows lit with dazzling +light, but through which one saw—nothing.</p> + +<p>“A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to +England?”</p> + +<p>“Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very +respectable, very egotistical. But, after all, what does that matter? +He is very much taken with me. He tries hard to conceal it, but he +cannot.”</p> + +<p>“Then why,” Anna asked quietly, “do you run away? It is not like you.”</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“How unkind!” she exclaimed. “Still, since it is better to tell you, +Sir John is very much in earnest, but his respectability is something +altogether too overpowering. Of course I knew all about him years ago, +and he is exactly like everybody’s description of him. I am afraid, +Anna, just a little afraid, that in Paris I and my friends here might +seem a trifle advanced. Besides, he might hear things. That is why I +called myself Anna.”</p> + +<p>“You—you did what?” Anna exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. “It can’t make any +difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who +could tell us apart.”</p> + +<p>Anna tried to look angry, but her mouth betrayed her. Instead, she +laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down +her cheeks.</p> + +<p>“You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. “Why should <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>I bear the +burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall +permit nothing of the sort.”</p> + +<p>Annabel shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. “I gave your name. I called +myself Anna. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. +Three little letters can’t make a bit of difference.”</p> + +<p>“But it may matter very much indeed,” Anna declared. “Perhaps for +myself I do not mind, but this man is sure to find out some day, and +he will not like having been deceived. Tell him the truth, Annabel.”</p> + +<p>“The truth!”</p> + +<p>There was a brief but intense silence. Anna felt that her words had +become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which +she had intended to impart. “The truth!” It was a moment of +awkwardness between the two sisters—a moment, too, charged with its +own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which +for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult +thing. It was Annabel who spoke.</p> + +<p>“How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. “Sir John +is not at all that sort. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a +little dust in his eyes. But heavens, I must pack!”</p> + +<p>She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which +she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled +hair.</p> + +<p>“It is positively no use, Anna,” she declared, appealingly. “You must +pack for me. I am sorry, but you have spoilt me. I can’t do it even +decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my +clothes.”</p> + +<p>Anna laughed, gave in and with deft fingers created order out of +chaos. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. Then she +took her sister’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. We +have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide +apart. There are many things which I do not understand. Have you +anything to tell me before you go?”</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed lightly.</p> + +<p>“My dear Anna! As though I should think of depressing you with my long +list of misdeeds.”</p> + +<p>“You have nothing to tell me?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p><p>So Annabel departed with the slightest of farewells, wearing a thick +travelling veil, and sitting far back in the corner of a closed +carriage. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt +away along the cobbled street and disappear. Then she stepped back +into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the +scattered fragments of her last canvas.</p> + +<p>“It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. “Perhaps for me,” +she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a +night of beginnings.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_III" id="Chapter_III"></a><i>Chapter III</i></h2> + +<h3>ANNA? OR ANNABEL?</h3> + +<p>Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical +cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English +Club on the following evening. He stood upon the threshold, dangling +his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly +interrogative. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if +any.</p> + +<p>“May I enquire,” he asked smoothly, “in what way my appearance +contributes to your amusement? If there is a joke I should like to +share it.”</p> + +<p>A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy +chair.</p> + +<p>“You hear him?” he remarked, looking impressively around. “A joke! Sir +John, if you had presented yourself here an hour ago we should have +greeted you in pained silence. We had not then recovered from the +shock. Our ideal had fallen. A sense of loss was amongst us. +Drummond,” he continued, looking across at his <i>vis-à-vis</i>, “we look +to you to give expression to our sentiments. Your career at the bar +had given you a command of language, also a self-control not +vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. Explain to Sir John our feelings.”</p> + +<p>Drummond, a few years older, dark, clean-shaven, with bright eyes and +humorous mouth, laid down his paper and turned towards Sir John. He +removed his cigarette from his lips and waved it gently in the air.</p> + +<p>“Holcroft,” he remarked, “in bald language, and with the usual +limitations of his clouded intellect, has still given some slight +expression to the consternation which I believe I may say is general +amongst us. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, +almost with awe. You represented to us the immaculate Briton, the one +Englishman who typified the Saxonism, if I may coin a word, of our +race. We have seen great and sober-minded men come to this unholy +city, and become degenerates. We have known men who have come here for +no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the +white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous +facility for the violets of the Parisienne. But you, Ferringhall, our +pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a +prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he +aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord +Mayor—James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. I cannot go on. My +feelings overpower me.”</p> + +<p>“You all seem to be trying to pull my leg,” Sir John remarked quietly. +“I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one.”</p> + +<p>Drummond shook his head in melancholy fashion.</p> + +<p>“He dissembles,” he said. “After all, how easy the descent is, even +for the greatest of us. I hope that James will not be long with that +whisky and Apollinaris. My nerves are shaken. I require stimulant.”</p> + +<p>Sir John seated himself deliberately.</p> + +<p>“I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of <i>The Times</i>, “that +it is your brain which is addled.”</p> + +<p>Drummond looked up with mock eagerness.</p> + +<p>“This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly +callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. Holcroft, +we may have been mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Think not,” that young man remarked laconically.</p> + +<p>“I will put the question,” Drummond said gravely. “Ferringhall, were +you or were you not dining last night at a certain restaurant in the +Boulevard des Italiennes with—<i>la petite</i> Pellissier?”</p> + +<p>Now indeed Sir John was moved. He sat up in his chair as though the +question had stung him. <i>The Times</i> slipped from his fingers. His eyes +were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed <i>timbre</i>.</p> + +<p>“It is true,” he said, “that I was dining last night at a restaurant +in the Boulevard des Italiennes, and it is true that my companion was +a young lady whose name is Pellissier. What of it?”</p> + +<p>There was a shout of laughter. Sir John looked about him, and somehow +the laugh died away. If such a thing in connexion with him had been +possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage. An +uncomfortable silence followed. Sir John once more looked around him.</p> + +<p>“I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of +it?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p><p>Drummond shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it +deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“I fail to see the joke,” Sir John said. “Kindly explain it to me.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly! The thing which appeals to our sense of humour is the fact +that you and <i>la petite</i> Pellissier were dining together.”</p> + +<p>“Will you tell me,” Sir John said ponderously, “by what right you call +that young lady—<i>la petite</i> Pellissier? I should be glad to know how +you dare to allude to her in a public place in such a disrespectful +manner!”</p> + +<p>Drummond looked at him and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. “Annabel Pellissier +is known to most of us. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with +her. She is very charming, and we all admire her immensely. She sings +twice a week at the ‘Ambassador’s’ and the ‘Casino Mavise’——”</p> + +<p>Sir John held up his hand.</p> + +<p>“Stop,” he said. “You do not even know what you are talking about. The +young lady with whom I was dining last night was Miss Anna Pellissier. +Miss Annabel is her sister. I know nothing of that young lady.”</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it.</p> + +<p>“The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he +remarked.</p> + +<p>“It was not necessary,” Sir John answered stiffly. “I was already +aware of the fact. I may add that the family is well known to me. The +two aunts of these young ladies lived for many years in the dower +house upon my estate in Hampshire. Under the circumstances you must +permit me to be the best judge of the identity of the young lady who +did me the honour, as an old family friend, of dining with me.”</p> + +<p>Like most men who lie but seldom, he lied well. Drummond smoked his +cigarette meditatively. He remembered that he had heard stories about +the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an +artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very +gay and a very brilliant little <i>coterie</i> of pleasure-seekers. There +was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. He thought it best to let +the matter drop. A few minutes later Sir John left the room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p><p>He walked out into the Champs Elysées and sat down. His cigar burnt +out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. He had +seldom been more perturbed. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, +thinking intently. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was +Anna. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. He went +over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. +She had behaved in every way perfectly. His spirits began to rise. +Drummond had made an abominable mistake. It was not possible for him +to have been deceived. He drew a little sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. He +was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always +upon the practical side of life. Such ambitions as he had were +stereotyped and material. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of +sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now +unexpectedly aware. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting +there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to +assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from +those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic +life. Somehow or other his reputation as a hardened and unassailable +bachelor had won for him during the last few years a comparative +immunity from attentions on the part of those women with whom he had +been brought into contact. It was a reputation by no means deserved. A +wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been +secretly but assiduously looking for her. In his way he was critical. +The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved +neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. +This girl whom he had met by chance and befriended had done both. She +possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the +innate charm of breeding. The Pellissiers had been an old family in +Hampshire, while his grandfather had driven a van.</p> + +<p>As in all things, so his thoughts came to him deliberately. He +pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her +aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that +delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile +which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. She was +poor. He was heartily thankful for it. He thought of his wealth for +once from a different point of view. How much he would be able to do +for her. Flowers, theatre <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the +whole world of pleasure. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in +traditions of the City and money-making, very ill-skilled in all the +lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her +invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical +powers of an unlimited banking account. She should be lifted out of +her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. And +afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards +where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green +of the lime-trees. His lips parted in a rare smile. Afterwards was the +most delightful part of all!...</p> + +<p>If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere +pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. Suddenly he stopped short. +He was in front of one of the more imposing of the <i>cafés +chantants</i>—opposite, illuminated with a whole row of lights, was the +wonderful poster which had helped to make ‘Alcide’ famous. He had looked +at it before without comprehension. To-night the subtle suggestiveness +of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the +head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great +artist seemed to come to him with a rush. He stood still, almost +breathless. A slow anger burned in the man. It was debauching, this—a +devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and +figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. Unwillingly he drew a +little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the +entrance. A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his +face.</p> + +<p>“Monsieur admires the poster?”</p> + +<p>As a rule Sir John treated such advances with cold silence. This +woman, contrary to his custom, he answered.</p> + +<p>“It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The woman shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“It is a great art,” she said in broken English. “The little English +girl is very fortunate. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no +gesture, no acting, nothing. And they pay her. Monsieur is going +inside perhaps?”</p> + +<p>But Sir John’s eyes were still riveted upon the poster, and his heart +was beating with unaccustomed force. For just as though a vague +likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague +dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his +thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. He drew a little +breath and stepped back. After all, he had the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>means of setting this +tormenting doubt at rest. She had mentioned the address where she and +her sister had lived. He would go there. He would see this sister. He +would know the truth then once and for all. He walked hastily to the +side of the broad pavement and summoned a <i>fiacre</i>.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IV" id="Chapter_IV"></a><i>Chapter IV</i></h2> + +<h3>THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST</h3> + +<p>“You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” +Anna said lightly. “You may talk—if you can talk cheerfully, not +unless.”</p> + +<p>“And you?” asked David Courtlaw.</p> + +<p>“Well, if I find your conversation interesting I shall listen. If not, +I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her +chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards.</p> + +<p>“For instance?”</p> + +<p>She smiled.</p> + +<p>“How I am to earn enough <i>sous</i> for my dinner to-morrow—or failing +that, what I can sell.”</p> + +<p>His face darkened.</p> + +<p>“And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? Your spirits at least should be good. It is not you who runs +the risk of going dinnerless to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>He turned upon her almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>“You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are +far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. Do you think that I am +utterly selfish?”</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>“Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. “But I have no +troubles.”</p> + +<p>He stared at her incredulously, and she laughed very softly.</p> + +<p>“What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. “You call yourself an +artist—but you have no temperament. The material cares of life hang +about your neck like a millstone. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow +would make you miserable to-night. You know I call that positively +wicked. It is not at all what I expected either. On the whole, I think +that I have been disappointed with the life here. There is so little +<i>abandon</i>, so little real joyousness.”</p> + +<p>“And yet,” he murmured, “one of the greatest of our writers has +declared that the true spirit of Bohemianism is denied to your sex.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>“He was probably right,” she declared. “Bohemianism is the least +understood word ever coined. I do not think that I have the Bohemian +spirit at all.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her thoughtfully. She wore a plain black dress, reaching +almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, +was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious +in its Sphinx-like immobility. A woman hard to read, who seemed to +delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of +feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her +master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. She +reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at +others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings +away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending +her life in a convent.</p> + +<p>“I believe that you are right,” he said softly. “It is the worst of +including in our vocabulary words which have no definite meaning, +perhaps I should say of which the meaning varies according to one’s +personal point of view. You, for instance, you live, you are not +afraid to live. Yet you make our Bohemianism seem like a vulgar +thing.”</p> + +<p>She stirred gently in her chair.</p> + +<p>“My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years. You have +watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon +the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. Yet the fact remains +that you do not understand me at all. No, not one little bit. It is +extraordinary.”</p> + +<p>“It is,” he replied, “the one humiliation of my life. My opportunities +have been immense, and my failure utter. If I had been your companion +only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to +accept you for what you seem. But there have been times, Anna, when +your work has startled me. Ill-drawn, without method or sense of +proportion, you have put wonderful things on to canvas, have drawn +them out of yourself, notwithstanding your mechanical inefficiency. +God knows how you did it. You are utterly baffling.”</p> + +<p>She laughed at him easily and mirthfully.</p> + +<p>“Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological +problem. I should only disappoint you terribly some day. I think I +know where I am puzzling you now——”</p> + +<p>“Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. “Lift up one +corner of the curtain for me.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. You shall tell me if I am wrong. You see me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>here, an +admitted failure in the object to which I have devoted two years of my +life. You know that I am practically destitute, without means or any +certain knowledge of where my next meal is coming from. I speak +frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce +me to accept help from any living person. You notice that I have +recently spent ten francs on a box of the best Russian cigarettes, and +that there are roses upon my table. You observe that I am, as usual, +fairly cheerful, and moderately amiable. It surprises you. You do not +understand, and you would like to. Very well! I will try to help you.”</p> + +<p>Her hand hung over the side of her chair nearest to him. He looked at +it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. During all their long +comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. This +was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different +from the ways of other men as regards her sex.</p> + +<p>“You see, it comes after all,” she continued, “from certain original +convictions which have become my religion. Rather a magniloquent term, +perhaps, but what else am I to say? One of these is that the most +absolutely selfish thing in the world is to give way to depression, to +think of one’s troubles at all except of how to overcome them. I spend +many delightful hours thinking of the pleasant and beautiful things of +life. I decline to waste a single second even in considering the ugly +ones. Do you know that this becomes a habit?”</p> + +<p>“If you would only teach us all,” he murmured, “how to acquire it.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she +continued. “With me I believe that it is more. It has become a part of +the order of my life. Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none +the better for anticipating its miseries to-day.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” he said, a trifle irrelevantly, “what the future has in +store for you.”</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?”</p> + +<p>He seemed deaf to her interruption. His grey eyes burned under his +shaggy eyebrows. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more +of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in +the uncertain light.</p> + +<p>“You were born for great things,” he said huskily. “For great +passions, for great accomplishments. Will you find your destiny, I +wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>wanderer, +knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could +but find the way to your heart.”</p> + +<p>She laughed gaily.</p> + +<p>“Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who +has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to +accomplish. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the +ruts.”</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>“You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. I +wonder,” he added, after a moment’s pause, “whether you ever realize +how young you are.”</p> + +<p>“Young? I am twenty-four.”</p> + +<p>“Yet you are very young. Anna, why will you persist in this +single-handed combat with life?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. “Oh, I know you would stop +me if you could. This time you cannot. You are the woman I love, Anna. +Let me make your future for you. Don’t be afraid that I shall stunt +it. I will give you a broad free life. You shall have room to develop, +you shall live as you will, where you will, only give me the right to +protect you, to free you from all these petty material cares.”</p> + +<p>She laid her hand softly upon his.</p> + +<p>“Dear friend,” she said, “do you not think that you are breaking an +unspoken compact? I am very sorry. In your heart you know quite well +that all that you have said is useless.”</p> + +<p>“Ay,” he repeated, looking away from her. “Useless—worse than +useless.”</p> + +<p>“You are foolish,” she declared, with a note of irritability in her +tone. “You would appear to be trying to destroy a comradeship which +has been very, very pleasant. For you know that I have made up my mind +to dig a little way into life single-handed. I, too, want to +understand—to walk with my head in the light. Love is a great thing, +and happiness a joy. Let me go my own way towards them. We may +meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would +make the chains of roses. Listen.”</p> + +<p>She stopped short. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. +Courtlaw rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>“It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. “I wonder would you mind +seeing who it is.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw crossed the room and threw open the door. He had come to +Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>dress. Sir +John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still +sitting in the shadow.</p> + +<p>“I believe,” he said stiffly, “that these are the apartments of Miss +Pellissier. I must apologize for disturbing you at such an unseemly +hour, but I should be very much obliged if Miss Pellissier would allow +me a few minutes’ conversation. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John +Ferringhall.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_V" id="Chapter_V"></a><i>Chapter V</i></h2> + +<h3>“ALCIDE”</h3> + +<p>Courtlaw took up his hat and coat at once, but Anna motioned him to +remain.</p> + +<p>“Please stay,” she said briefly. “Will you come in, Sir John. I +believe that I have heard my sister speak of you. This is my friend, +Mr. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall.”</p> + +<p>Sir John acknowledged the introduction without cordiality. He entered +the room with his usual deliberation, and looked covertly about him. +He noticed the two chairs close together. Anna was still holding her +cigarette between her fingers. Her likeness to her sister gave him at +first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a +wonderful sense of relief. For if the likeness between the sisters was +remarkable, the likeness between this girl and the poster which he had +come from studying was more remarkable still.</p> + +<p>“I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at +such an unseemly hour. My only excuse is that I missed my way here, +and I am leaving Paris early to-morrow morning.”</p> + +<p>“If your business with me is of any importance,” Anna said calmly, “it +does not matter in the least about the hour. Have you brought me a +message from my sister? I understood, I believe, that she was seeing +you last night.”</p> + +<p>“Your sister,” he answered, “did me the honour of dining with me last +night.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>After all, it was not so easy. The girl’s eyes never left his face. +She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. +Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would +leave.</p> + +<p>“I believe,” he said slowly, “that I shall do best to throw myself +upon your consideration and tell you the truth. I have recently made +your sister’s acquaintance, and in the course of conversation I +understood from her that her Christian name was Anna. Some friends who +saw us dining together persist in alluding to her as Miss Annabel +Pellissier. I am guilty practically <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>of the impertinence of coming to +ask you whether I misunderstood your sister.”</p> + +<p>“Is my sister’s Christian name, then, of so much importance to you?” +she asked with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>“The things involved in it are,” he answered gravely.</p> + +<p>She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. Courtlaw opened his lips, +but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. “Let me +hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. My sister was scarcely likely to +make a mistake. She told you—the truth.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a +crash to the ground. He stooped to recover it, and his face was +hidden. Sir John felt and looked several years younger.</p> + +<p>“I am much obliged to you,” he said. “Really, I do not know why I +should have doubted it.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I,” she remarked tersely.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with a certain curiosity. She was a very elegant +young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air +of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which +Annabel may have lacked. It was hard to associate her with the stories +which he and all Paris had heard of “Alcide.”</p> + +<p>“You, then,” he said, “are ‘Alcide.’ That wonderful poster—is of +you.”</p> + +<p>She lifted her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. My +friends consider it wonderfully faithful. Have you any more questions +to ask me?”</p> + +<p>Sir John, on his way down, had determined to hint to this young woman +that, providing certain contingencies which he had in his mind should +come to pass, he would be prepared to make her a handsome offer to +change her name. He found, however, that now the time had come he +utterly lacked the courage to attempt any such speech.</p> + +<p>“None, I thank you,” he answered. “I will not intrude upon you +further.”</p> + +<p>“Wait,” she said.</p> + +<p>He turned back at once.</p> + +<p>“I have answered all your questions,” she said. “Perhaps you will not +object to answering one for me. You have thought it worth while to +take some considerable pains to resolve for yourself my sister’s +identity. May I ask the nature of your interest in her?”</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p><p>“It is not an easy matter,” he said, “for me to offer you an +altogether adequate explanation. I have only seen your sister for a +very brief time, and I am a little past the age when a man does +headstrong things. At the same time, I must say that I am most anxious +to improve my acquaintance with her. I am a single man, and——”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” she interrupted. “I will not ask you to explain further. +Good night.”</p> + +<p>He left at once, immensely relieved, yet scarcely satisfied with +himself as regarded his share of the interview with this young woman. +They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing +fainter and fainter. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white +puzzled face.</p> + +<p>“Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely. “How dared you do +yourself this injustice?”</p> + +<p>“I did it for her sake,” she answered. “It may be her salvation. I +believe that he will marry her.”</p> + +<p>“You would let him—knowing—all that you know?”</p> + +<p>“Why not? She is my flesh and blood. She is more dear to me than +anything else. Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things +would have been different.”</p> + +<p>“You! Why, you have been an angel to her,” he exclaimed impatiently. +“You know very well that she is selfish and pleasure-loving to the +backbone. You have made enough sacrifices for her surely without this. +Besides, you cannot tell where it will end. You have taken upon your +shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. You may have to carry them +further and longer than you think. Oh, it is unbearable.”</p> + +<p>The man’s face was dark with passion. It was as though he were +personally aggrieved. His tone was rough, almost threatening. The girl +only smiled at him serenely, but she laid her hand for a moment +quietly upon his.</p> + +<p>“Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me +to do as I think best. Annabel is my only sister, you know, almost my +only relative. If I do not look after her, she has no one. And she is +very young, younger than her years.”</p> + +<p>It was significant of her influence over him that he answered her +calmly, although a storm of angry thoughts were struggling for +expression within him.</p> + +<p>“Look after her! Why not? But you have done it all your life. You have +been her guardian angel. But even you cannot alter her character. +Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. +The pursuit of pleasure, self-gratification, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>is an original instinct +with her. Blood and bone, body and spirit, she is selfish through and +through. Even you have not been able to hold her back. I speak no harm +of her. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none. But——”</p> + +<p>A look checked him.</p> + +<p>“I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much +admired, is not a good place for her. That is why I am glad that she +has gone to London.”</p> + +<p>He rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room. +The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. There was +a black fear in his heart. He stopped before her suddenly.</p> + +<p>“You, too,” he said abruptly. “You mean to follow her. You will go to +London?”</p> + +<p>“It is necessary,” she answered. “You yourself have decided +that—apart from the question of Annabel.”</p> + +<p>He was suddenly calm.</p> + +<p>“It is part of the irony of life,” he said. “One is always playing the +surgeon, one kills always the thing one loves best. I meant to lie to +you. Would to God I had.”</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. “It was +best for me to know. Later on I could scarcely have forgiven you.”</p> + +<p>“And now—I am to lose you.”</p> + +<p>“For a little time,” she answered. “I meant to say good-bye to you +to-night. Or, after all, is it worth while? The Channel is a little +broader than the Boulevards—but one crosses it sometimes.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her with white, set face.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, “I shall come. That is very certain. But, after all, +it will be different. I think that I have become a drug drinker. I +need you every day. In the mornings I find labour easy because I am +going to see you. In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their +work because you have been with me. Anna, you shall not go. I cannot +let you go.”</p> + +<p>She threw away the end of her cigarette. Without turning or looking in +his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her +fingers, her elbows upon her knees. She gazed steadily out of the +window at that arc of glittering lights. He made a quick movement +towards her, but she did not flinch. His arm fell to his side. The +effort of self-repression cost him a sob.</p> + +<p>“David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p><p>“I do not know,” he muttered. “The bravest of us have joints in our +armour.”</p> + +<p>“You are not a coward,” she repeated, “or you would not be my friend. +A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes +no mistake. You are not a coward David, and you must not talk like +one. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. It is the only way.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot do it!” he cried hoarsely. “I cannot part with you. You have +grown into my life. Anna——”</p> + +<p>Again she stopped him, but this time it was not so easy. The man’s +passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her. And +yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with +outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her +wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her +determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say +to her. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his +own passionate love. He took her hands firmly in his and raised them +to his lips.</p> + +<p>“You shall go,” he declared. “I will make of the days and weeks one +long morning, but remember the afternoon must come. Always remember +that.”</p> + +<p>Her hands fell to her side. She remained for a few moments standing as +though listening to his retreating footsteps. Then she turned, and +entering the inner room, commenced to dress hastily for the street.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VI" id="Chapter_VI"></a><i>Chapter VI</i></h2> + +<h3>A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION</h3> + +<p>The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her +keenly through his gold eye-glasses. He sat before a desk littered all +over with papers and official looking documents. The walls of the room +were lined with shelves, on which were glass jars, retorts, countless +bottles and many appliances of surgical science. A skeleton was +propped against the mantelpiece. The atmosphere seemed heavy with the +odour of drugs.</p> + +<p>“You are Mademoiselle Pellissier?” he asked, without rising to his +feet.</p> + +<p>Anna admitted the fact.</p> + +<p>“We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“I came directly I was disengaged,” Anna answered. “In any case, there +is probably some mistake. I have very few friends in Paris.”</p> + +<p>He referred to a sheet of paper by his side.</p> + +<p>“Your name and address were upon an envelope found in the pocket of an +Englishman who was brought here late last night suffering from serious +injuries,” he said in a dry official tone. “As it is doubtful whether +the man will live, we should be glad if you would identify him.”</p> + +<p>“It is most unlikely that I shall be able to do so,” Anna answered. +“To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in +the city.”</p> + +<p>“My dear young lady,” the official said irritably, “this man would not +have your name and address in his pocket without an object. You cannot +tell whether you know him or not until you have seen him. Be so good +as to come this way.”</p> + +<p>With a little shrug of the shoulders Anna followed him. They ascended +by a lift to one of the upper floors, passed through a long ward, and +finally came to a bed in the extreme corner, round which a screen had +been arranged. A nurse came hurrying up.</p> + +<p>“He is quiet only this minute,” she said to the official. “All the +time he is shouting and muttering. If this is the young lady, she can +perhaps calm him.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><p>Anna stepped to the foot of the bed. An electric light flashed out +from the wall. The face of the man who lay there was clearly visible. +Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook +her head.</p> + +<p>“I have never seen him in my life,” she said to the official. “I have +not the least idea who he is.”</p> + +<p>Just then the man’s eyes opened. He saw the girl, and sprang up in +bed.</p> + +<p>“Annabel at last,” he shouted. “Where have you been? All these hours I +have been calling for you. Annabel, I was lying. Who says that I am +not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. See, it is on my cards—M. +Hill, Meysey Hill. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, +you’ve jammed it now. Do you want to kill us both? Stop the thing. +Stop it!”</p> + +<p>Anna stepped back bewildered, but the man held out his arms to her.</p> + +<p>“I tell you it was a lie!” he shouted wildly. “Can’t you believe me? I +am Meysey Hill. I am the richest man in England. I am the richest man +in the world. You love money. You know you do, Annabel. Never mind, +I’ve got plenty. We’ll go to the shops. Diamonds! You shall have all +that you can carry away, sacks full if you like. Pearls too! I mean +it. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. Don’t leave me. Don’t +leave me in this beastly thing. Annabel! Annabel!”</p> + +<p>His voice became a shriek. In response to an almost imperative gesture +from the nurse, Anna laid her hand upon his. He fell back upon the +pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. +In a moment his grasp grew weaker. The perspiration stood out upon his +forehead. His eyes closed.</p> + +<p>Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief. The hand which +the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. She held +it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her +unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. She began rubbing +it with her pocket-handkerchief. The man himself was not a pleasant +object. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. Such of his +features as were visible were of coarse mould. His eyes were set too +close together. Anna turned deliberately away from the bedside. She +followed the official back into his room.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he asked her tersely.</p> + +<p>“I can only repeat what I said before,” she declared. “To the best of +my belief, I have never seen the man in my life.”</p> + +<p>“But he recognized you,” the official objected.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p><p>“He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. “I suppose +delusions are not uncommon to patients in his condition.”</p> + +<p>The official frowned.</p> + +<p>“Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said +sharply. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your +private life. Nothing is of any concern of ours except the discovery +of the man’s identity. He was picked up from amongst the wreckage of a +broken motor on the road to Versailles last night, and we have +information that a lady was with him only a few minutes before the +accident occurred.”</p> + +<p>“You are very unbelieving,” Anna said coldly. “I hope you will not +compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the +best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life.”</p> + +<p>The official shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. “Remember that the +man will probably die. He had little money about him, and unless +friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper.”</p> + +<p>“I do not wish to seem unfeeling,” Anna said, slowly, “but I can only +repeat that I am absolutely without concern in the matter. The man is +a stranger to me.”</p> + +<p>The official had no more to say. Only it was with a further and most +unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat.</p> + +<p>“You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, +mademoiselle,” he said curtly.</p> + +<p>“You have them both,” Anna answered.</p> + +<p>He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile.</p> + +<p>“It is possible, mademoiselle,” he said, “that this affair is not yet +ended. It may bring us together again.”</p> + +<p>She passed out without reply. Yet she took with her an uneasy +consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future +trouble.</p> + +<p>As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her +lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. He stopped short with a +little exclamation of surprise.</p> + +<p>“My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please.”</p> + +<p>He recovered himself.</p> + +<p>“I was surprised, I admit,” he said. “You did not tell me that you +were going out, or I would have offered my escort. Do you know how +late it is?”</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p><p>“I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. “I +was sent for to go to the Hospital St. Denis. But what are you doing +here?”</p> + +<p>“Old Père Runeval met me on your doorstep, and he would not let me go. +I have been sitting with him ever since. The Hospital St. Denis, did +you say? I hope that no one of our friends has met with an accident.”</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“They wanted me to identify some one whom I had certainly never seen +before in my life, and to tell you the truth, they were positively +rude to me because I could not. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey +Hill?”</p> + +<p>“Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his +tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some +significance for him.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. “He +was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?”</p> + +<p>“I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. “Still, of course, +it is possible. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey +Hill or not.”</p> + +<p>“How long had he been in the hospital?” Courtlaw asked.</p> + +<p>“Since last night.”</p> + +<p>“Then, whoever he may be, he is not Meysey Hill,” Courtlaw said. “That +young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café +de Paris to-day. I sat within a few feet of him. I feel almost +inclined to regret the fact.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, +“I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t that a little extreme?”</p> + +<p>“I am an extreme person at times. This man has an evil reputation. I +know of scandalous deeds which he has done.”</p> + +<p>Anna had reached the house where she lodged, but she hesitated on the +doorstep.</p> + +<p>“Have you ever seen Annabel with him?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Never.”</p> + +<p>“It is odd that this man at the hospital should call himself Meysey +Hill,” she remarked.</p> + +<p>“If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what +can be done for him.”</p> + +<p>“It would be very kind of you,” she declared. “I am only sorry that I +did not ask you to go with me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p><p>She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to +the tall, gloomy lodging-house. And ever after it struck him that her +backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special +significance. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. +When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that +Mademoiselle had left. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes +could gain no further information than that she had left for England, +and that her address was—London.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VII" id="Chapter_VII"></a><i>Chapter VII</i></h2> + +<h3>MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS</h3> + +<p>“Anna!”</p> + +<p>Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. Then she sat +down—uninvited—and looked from one to the other curiously. There was +something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation +which puzzled her.</p> + +<p>“I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though +I were something grisly. I am your very dutiful niece, aunt, and your +most devoted sister, Annabel. I haven’t murdered any one, or broken +the law in any way that I know of. Perhaps you will explain the state +of panic into which I seem to have thrown you.”</p> + +<p>Annabel, who was looking very well, and who was most becomingly +dressed, moved to a seat from which she could command a view of the +road outside. She was the first to recover herself. Her aunt, a faded, +anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still +sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.</p> + +<p>Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her +sister.</p> + +<p>“For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea +that you had left, or were leaving Paris. You did not say a word about +it last week, nor have you written. It is quite a descent from the +clouds, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“I will accept that,” Anna said, “as accounting for the surprise. +Perhaps you will now explain the alarm.”</p> + +<p>Miss Pellissier was beginning to recover herself. She too at once +developed an anxious interest in the street outside.</p> + +<p>“I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the +truth from you. We are expecting a visit from Sir John Ferringhall at +any moment. He is coming here to tea.”</p> + +<p>“Well?” Anna remarked calmly.</p> + +<p>“Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see +your sister.”</p> + +<p>Anna drummed impatiently with her fingers against the arm of her +chair.</p> + +<p>“Well!” she declared good-humouredly. “I shan’t eat him.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p><p>Miss Pellissier stiffened visibly.</p> + +<p>“This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said. “Your +sister’s future is at stake. I imagine that even you must realize that +this is of some importance.”</p> + +<p>Anna glanced towards her sister, but the latter avoided her eyes.</p> + +<p>“I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of +interest in Annabel’s future. I should like to know how it is +concerned with Sir John Ferringhall, and how my presence intervenes.”</p> + +<p>“Sir John,” Miss Pellissier said impressively, “has asked your sister +to be his wife. It is a most wonderful piece of good fortune, as I +suppose you will be prepared to admit. The Ferringhalls are of course +without any pretence at family, but Sir John is a very rich man, and +will be able to give Annabel a very enviable position in the world. +The settlements which he has spoken of, too, are most munificent. No +wonder we are anxious that nothing should happen to make him change +his mind.”</p> + +<p>“I still——”</p> + +<p>Anna stopped short. Suddenly she understood. She grew perhaps a shade +paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler +cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting.</p> + +<p>“Sir John of course disapproves of me,” she remarked slowly.</p> + +<p>“Sir John is a man of the world,” her aunt answered coldly. “He +naturally does not wish for connexions which are—I do not wish to +hurt you feelings, Anna, but I must say it—not altogether desirable.”</p> + +<p>The irrepressible smile curved Anna’s lips. She glanced towards her +sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection +of her own rather sombre mirth. She leaned back in her chair. It was +no use. The smile had become a laugh. She laughed till the tears stood +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. “Did he tell you, +Annabel?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“He mentioned the matter to me also,” Miss Pellissier remarked +stiffly. “The visit seems to have made a most painful impression upon +him. To tell you the truth, he spoke to me very seriously upon the +subject.”</p> + +<p>Anna sprang up.</p> + +<p>“I will be off,” she declared. “My cab with all that luggage would +give the whole show away. Good-bye, aunt.”</p> + +<p>Miss Pellissier tried ineffectually to conceal her relief.</p> + +<p>“I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>“And of course you are my niece just as Annabel is, although I am +sorry to learn that your conduct has been much less discreet than +hers. But at the same time, I must say plainly that I think your +presence here just now would be a great misfortune. I wish very much +that you had written before leaving Paris.”</p> + +<p>Anna nodded.</p> + +<p>“Quite right,” she said. “I ought to have done. Good-bye aunt. I’ll +come and see you again later on. Annabel, come to the door with me,” +she added a little abruptly. “There is something which I must say to +you.”</p> + +<p>Annabel rose and followed her sister from the room. A maidservant held +the front door open. Anna sent her away.</p> + +<p>“Annabel,” she said brusquely. “Listen to me.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told +him. No, never mind about thanking me. I want to ask you a plain +question, and you must answer me faithfully. Is all that folly done +with—for ever?”</p> + +<p>Annabel shivered ever so slightly.</p> + +<p>“Of course it is, Anna. You ought to know that. I am going to make a +fresh start.”</p> + +<p>“Be very sure that you do,” Anna said slowly. “If I thought for a +moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and +tell him the truth even now.”</p> + +<p>Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes.</p> + +<p>“Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. I am really in earnest. I +would not have him know—now—for the world.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” Anna said. “I will believe you. Remember that he’s not at +all a bad sort, and to speak frankly, he’s your salvation. Try and let +him never regret it. There’s plenty to be got out of life in a decent +sort of way. Be a good wife to him. You can if you will.”</p> + +<p>“I promise,” Annabel declared. “He is very kind, Anna, really, and not +half such a prig as he seems.”</p> + +<p>Anna moved towards the door, but her sister detained her.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you tell me why you have come to England?” she said. “It was +such a surprise to see you. I thought that you loved Paris and your +work so much.”</p> + +<p>A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone.</p> + +<p>“I have made no progress with my work,” she said slowly, “and the +money was gone. I had to ask Mr. Courtlaw for his true verdict, and he +gave it me. I have given up painting.”</p> + +<p>“Anna!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p><p>“It is true, dear. After all there are other things. All that I regret +are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. Only of +course I must begin something else at once. That is why I came to +London.”</p> + +<p>“But what are you going to do—where are you going to live?” Annabel +asked. “Have you any money?”</p> + +<p>“Lots,” Anna answered laconically. “Never mind me. I always fall on my +feet, you know.”</p> + +<p>“You will let us hear from you—let us know where you are, very soon?” +Annabel called out from the step.</p> + +<p>Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement.</p> + +<p>“Some day,” she answered. “Run in now. There’s a hansom coming round +the corner.”</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Anna sat back in her cab, but found it remain stationary.</p> + +<p>“Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. “I don’t know where to go to.”</p> + +<p>The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, +reminded her that he was in a similar predicament.</p> + +<p>“Drive towards St. Pancras,” she directed, promptly. “I will tell you +when to stop.”</p> + +<p>The cab rumbled off. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the +streets. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had +said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VIII" id="Chapter_VIII"></a><i>Chapter VIII</i></h2> + +<h3>“WHITE’S”</h3> + +<p>Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled +the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy +old horse rapidly approaching its last days. Inside was Anna, leaning +a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the +brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand +and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. She was +practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her +future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. She +watched the people and hummed softly to herself.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window.</p> + +<p>“Please stop, cabman,” she ordered.</p> + +<p>The man pulled up. It was not a difficult affair.</p> + +<p>“Is this Montague Street, W.C.?” she asked.</p> + +<p>The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could +not.</p> + +<p>“Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed. “I want to find an +address.”</p> + +<p>The man contented himself with a nod. Anna rummaged about in her +dressing-case, and finally drew out a letter. On the envelope was +written—</p> + +<p class="right">Sydney Courtlaw, Esq.,</p> + +<p class="right2">13, Montague St.</p> + +<p>She put her head out of the window.</p> + +<p>“Number 13, please, cabman.”</p> + +<p>“We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality +in his gruff voice.</p> + +<p>“Then turn round and go back there,” she directed.</p> + +<p>The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. His +horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where +he was. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was +induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again +before a tall brightly-painted house, which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>seemed like an oasis of +colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. This was number +13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as +“White’s.”</p> + +<p>Anna promptly alighted with the letter in her hand. The door was +opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several +sizes too large for him. The rest of his attire was nondescript.</p> + +<p>“Does Mr. Courtlaw, Mr. Sydney Courtlaw, live here, please?” Anna +asked him.</p> + +<p>“Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. “Generally gets here +about seven.”</p> + +<p>Anna hesitated, and then held out the letter.</p> + +<p>“I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. “It is from +his brother in Paris. Say that I will call again or let him know my +address in London.”</p> + +<p>The young man accepted the letter and the message, and seemed about to +close the door when a lady issued from one of the front rooms and +intervened. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, +a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge +chatelaine. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very +creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. Under the +somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a +recent use of the powder puff.</p> + +<p>“I think that you were inquiring for Mr. Courtlaw,” she remarked. “He +is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he +seldom returns before dinner-time. We dine at seven-thirty. Can I give +him any message for you?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” Anna answered. “I have a letter for him from his brother, +which I was just leaving.”</p> + +<p>“I will see that he gets it immediately on his return,” the lady +promised. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, +then?”</p> + +<p>Anna hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Well, no,” she answered. “To tell you the truth though, I am quite a +stranger in London, and it occurred to me that Mr. Courtlaw might have +been able to give me an idea where to stop.”</p> + +<p>The lady in black satin looked at the pile of luggage outside and +hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Were you thinking of private apartments, a boarding-house or an +hotel?” she asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p><p>“I really had not thought about it at all,” Anna answered smiling. “I +expected to stay with a relation, but I found that their arrangements +did not allow of it. I have been used to living in apartments in +Paris, but I suppose the system is different here.”</p> + +<p>The lady in black satin appeared undecided. She looked from Anna, who +was far too nice-looking to be travelling about alone, to that +reassuring pile of luggage, and wrinkled her brows thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” she said diffidently, “this is a boarding-house, although +we never take in promiscuous travellers. The class of guests we have +are all permanent, and I am obliged to be very careful indeed. But—if +you are a friend of Mr. Courtlaw’s—I should like to oblige Mr. +Courtlaw.”</p> + +<p>“It is very nice of you to think of it,” Anna said briskly. “I should +really like to find somewhere to stay, if it was only for a few +nights.”</p> + +<p>The lady stood away from the door.</p> + +<p>“Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is +no one there just now. Most of my people are upstairs dressing for +dinner. The gentlemen are so particular now, and a good thing too, I +say. I was always used to it, and I think it gives quite a tone to an +establishment. Please sit down, Miss—dear me, I haven’t asked you +your name yet.”</p> + +<p>“My name is Pellissier,” Anna said, “Anna Pellissier.”</p> + +<p>“I am Mrs. White,” the lady in black satin remarked. “It makes one +feel quite awkward to mention such a thing, but after all I think that +it is best for both parties. Could you give me any references?”</p> + +<p>“There is Mr. Courtlaw,” Anna said, “and my solicitors, Messrs. Le +Mercier and Stowe of St. Heliers. They are rather a long way off, but +you could write to them. I am sorry that I do not know any one in +London. But after all, Mrs. White, I am not sure that I could afford +to come to you. I am shockingly poor. Please tell me what your terms +are.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” Mrs. White said slowly, “it depends a good deal upon what +rooms you have. Just now my best ones are all taken.”</p> + +<p>“So much the better,” Anna declared cheerfully. “The smallest will do +for me quite well.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure +that no one was listening.</p> + +<p>“I should like you to come here,” she said. “It’s a great deal <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>for a +young lady who’s alone in the world, as I suppose you are at present, +to have a respectable home, and I do not think in such a case that +private apartments are at all desirable. We have a very nice set of +young people here too just at present, and you would soon make some +friends. I will take you for thirty-five shillings a week. Please +don’t let any one know that.”</p> + +<p>“I have no idea what it costs to live in London,” Anna said, “but I +should like very much to come for a short time if I might.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” Mrs. White said. “Two days’ notice shall be sufficient on +either side.”</p> + +<p>“And I may bring my luggage in and send that cabman away?” Anna asked. +“Dear me, what a relief! If I had had any nerves that man would have +trampled upon them long ago.”</p> + +<p>“Cabmen are so trying,” Mrs. White assented. “You need have no further +trouble. The manservant shall bring your trunks in and pay the fare +too, if you like.”</p> + +<p>Anna drew out her purse at once.</p> + +<p>“You are really a good Samaritan,” she declared. “I am perfectly +certain that that man meant to be rude to me. He has been bottling it +up all the way from West Kensington.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. White rang the bell.</p> + +<p>“Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room. And would +you mind hurrying a little. You won’t want to be late the first +evening, and it’s ten minutes past seven now. Gracious, there’s the +gong. This way, my dear—and—you’ll excuse my mentioning it, but a +quiet blouse and a little chiffon, you know, will be quite sufficient. +It’s your first evening, and early impressions do count for so much. +You understand me, I’m sure.”</p> + +<p>Anna was a little puzzled, but she only laughed.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps, as I’ve only just arrived,” she remarked, “I might be +forgiven if I do not change my skirt. I packed so hurriedly that it +will take me a long time to find my things.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” Mrs. White assured her. “Certainly. I’ll mention it. +You’re tired, of course. This is your room. The gong will go at +seven-thirty. Don’t be late if you can help it.”</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Anna was not late, but her heart sank within her when she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>entered the +drawing-room. It was not a hopeful looking group. Two or three +podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed +girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the +clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since +breakfast time. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of +pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some +unintelligible jargon of the City. What had she to do with such as +these? She had hard work to keep a smiling face, as Mrs. White, who +had risen to greet her, proceeded with a formal, and from Anna’s point +of view, a wholly unnecessary round of introductions. And then +suddenly—a relief. A young man—almost a boy, slight, dark, and with +his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her.</p> + +<p>“You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” +he said, shyly. “I am very glad that you have come here. I heard from +David about you only this morning.”</p> + +<p>“You are marvellously like your brother,” Anna said, beaming upon him. +“I have a letter for you, and no end of messages. Where can we sit +down and talk?”</p> + +<p>He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, +fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Let me introduce my friend to you,” Courtlaw said. “Arthur, this is +Miss Pellissier—Mr. Brendon. Brendon and I are great chums,” he went +on nervously. “We are clerks in the same bank. I don’t think that the +rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re +obliged to be friends.”</p> + +<p>Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more +self-possessed than Sydney Courtlaw.</p> + +<p>“Sydney is quite right, Miss Pellissier,” he said. “He and I don’t +seem to get on at all with our fellow-guests, as Mrs. White calls +them. You really ought not to stay here and talk to us. It is a most +inauspicious start for you.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should +I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of +wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. +“Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to +see her in a carriage. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over +her glasses.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a +correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door.</p> + +<p>“Dinner is served, ma’am,” he announced to Mrs. White.</p> + +<p>There was no rush. Everything was done in a genteel and ordinary way, +but on the other hand, there was no lingering. Anna found herself next +Sydney Courtlaw, with his friend close at hand. Opposite to her was a +sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of +obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. +As a rule, Courtlaw told her softly, he talked right and left, and to +everybody throughout the whole of the meal—to-night he was almost +silent, and seemed to devote his whole attention to staring at Anna. +After the first courses however she scarcely noticed him. Her two new +friends did their best to entertain her.</p> + +<p>“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, +“whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a +Montague Street boarding-house. Are you going to write a novel?”</p> + +<p>“Not I,” she answered gaily. “I came to London unexpectedly, and my +friends could not take me in. I had a vague sort of idea that this was +the region where one finds apartments, so I told my cabman to drive in +this direction while I sat inside his vehicle and endeavoured to form +a plan of campaign. He brought me past this house, and I thought I +would call and leave your brother’s letter. Then I saw Mrs. White——”</p> + +<p>“No more,” Sydney Courtlaw begged, laughingly. “You were booked of +course. An unexpected vacancy, wasn’t it? Every one comes in on +unexpected vacancy.”</p> + +<p>“And they go?”</p> + +<p>“When they get the chance. It really isn’t so easy to go as it seems. +We have come to the conclusion, Brendon and I, that Mrs. White is +psychologically gifted. She throws a sort of spell over us all. We +struggle against it at first, but in the end we have to submit. She +calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. We simply +can’t get away. There’s that old gentleman at the end of the +table—Bullding his name is. He will tell you confidentially that he +simply hates the place. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as +much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. Everyone will grumble +to you confidentially—Miss Ellicot, she’s our swagger young lady, you +know—up there, next to Miss White, she will tell you that it is so +out of the world here, so far away from everyone one knows. Old +Kesterton, choleric-looking individual nearly opposite, will curse the +cooking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>till he’s black in the face, but he never misses a dinner. +The Semitic looking young man opposite, who seems to have been +committing you to memory piecemeal, will tell you that he was never so +bored in all his life as he has been here. Yet he stays. They all +stay!”</p> + +<p>“And you yourself?”</p> + +<p>Brendon laughed.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we are also under the spell,” he declared, “but I think that we +are here mainly because it is cheap. It is really cheap, you know. To +appreciate it you should try rooms.”</p> + +<p>“Is this a fair sample of the dinner?” Anna asked, who had the healthy +appetite of a strong young woman.</p> + +<p>“It is, if anything, a little above the average,” Brendon admitted.</p> + +<p>Anna said nothing. The young man opposite was straining his ears to +listen to their conversation. Mrs. White caught her eye, and smiled +benignly down the table.</p> + +<p>“I hope that Mr. Courtlaw is looking after you, Miss Pellissier,” she +said.</p> + +<p>“Admirably, thank you,” Anna answered.</p> + +<p>The young lady with frizzled hair, whom Brendon had pointed out to her +as Miss Ellicot, leaned forward from her hostess’s side. She had very +frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic +adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile.</p> + +<p>“We are so interested to hear, Miss Pellissier,” she said, “that you +have been living in Paris. We shall expect you to tell us all what to +wear.”</p> + +<p>Anna smiled very faintly, and shook her head.</p> + +<p>“I have come from a very unfashionable quarter,” she said, “and I do +not think that I have been inside a milliner’s shop for a year. +Besides, it is all reversed now, you know. Paris copies London.”</p> + +<p>Brendon leaned over confidentially.</p> + +<p>“You are in luck, Miss Pellissier,” he declared. “Your success here is +absolutely meteoric. Miss Ellicot has spoken to you, the great Mr. +Bullding is going to. For five minutes he has been trying to think of +something to say. I am not sure, but I believe that he has just +thought of something.”</p> + +<p>“May I be prepared?” Anna asked. “Which is Mr. Bullding?”</p> + +<p>“Stout old gentleman four places down on the left. Look out, it’s +coming.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p><p>Anna raised her eyes, and caught the earnest gaze of an elderly +gentleman with a double chin, a protuberant under lip, and a +snuff-stained coat.</p> + +<p>“I was in Paris four years ago,” Mr. Building announced solemnly. “It +rained the whole of the time, but we saw all the sights, and the place +never seemed dull.”</p> + +<p>“It takes a great deal of bad weather to depress the true Parisian,” +Anna admitted.</p> + +<p>“A volatile temperament—yes, a volatile temperament,” Mr. Bullding +repeated, rather struck with the phrase. “It is a pity that as nations +we are not more friendly.”</p> + +<p>Anna nodded and turned again to Courtlaw.</p> + +<p>“I will not be drawn into a conversation with Mr. Bullding,” she +declared. “I believe that he would bore me. Tell me, what are these +bananas and nuts for?”</p> + +<p>“Dessert.”</p> + +<p>Anna laid down her serviette.</p> + +<p>“Let us escape,” she said. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some +coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me.”</p> + +<p>Brendon laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“We can,” he said, “and we will. But it is only fair to warn you that +it isn’t expected. Mrs. White is proud of her drawing-room evenings. +There is a musical programme, and we have the windows open and blinds +up, and a pink lamp shade over the piano lamp—a sort of advertisement +of the place, you know. Strangers look in and long, and neighbours are +moved to envy.”</p> + +<p>Anna hesitated no longer. She almost sprang to her feet. Conscious of +Mrs. White’s surprise as she swung easily down the room, followed by +the two young men, she smiled a careless explanation at her.</p> + +<p>“I am dying to renew my acquaintance with London, Mrs. White,” she +remarked.</p> + +<p>“You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a +trifle dismayed.</p> + +<p>Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly +lifted eyebrows.</p> + +<p>“Why not? They tell me that London is impossible till after ten, and I +want my first impressions to be favourable.”</p> + +<p>“There will be some coffee and music in the drawing-room in a few +minutes,” Mrs. White said.</p> + +<p>“Thanks, I’m not very fond of coffee,” Anna answered, “and I hate +music. Good night.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>Mrs. White gasped, and then stiffened. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, +and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. +Anna passed serenely out.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IX" id="Chapter_IX"></a><i>Chapter IX</i></h2> + +<h3>BRENDON’S LUCK</h3> + +<p>Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. She was alone, and the +mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. She +was a little paler than when she had come to London, a little paler +and a little thinner. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now +with unshed tears. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her +life. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although +she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. +Nevertheless, she was still fighting.</p> + +<p>“There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told +herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs. White. It +ought not to be much. I have gone without dinner for three nights, +and—come in.”</p> + +<p>Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. Anna raised her eyebrows at +the sight of him. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and +white tie.</p> + +<p>“Is this a concession to Mrs. White?” she asked, laughing. “How +gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an +effort to get home in time for dinner.”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly,” he answered nervously. “Please forgive me coming up, +Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three +nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell.”</p> + +<p>“Never better in my life,” Anna declared briskly. “I had lunch very +late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner.”</p> + +<p>She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a +cheap café. Sydney was watching her eagerly.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, “because we want you to do us a +favour. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck.”</p> + +<p>“I’m delighted,” she exclaimed. “Do tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p>“He only heard this afternoon,” Sydney continued. “An uncle in New +York is dead, and has left him loads of money. A lawyer has come all +the way from America about it. We want to celebrate, and we want you +to help us. Brendon suggests supper at the Carlton. We meant to make +it dinner and a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>theatre, but you were not home. We thought of +starting in half an hour’s time, and trying for a theatre somewhere on +the way.”</p> + +<p>“How delightful!” exclaimed Anna. “I should love to come. It is very +sweet of you to have waited for me. Run away now, please. I must see +if I have a gown fit to wear.”</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>“This,” Anna declared, as she sipped her wine and looked around her, +“reminds me more of Paris than any place I have yet seen. I suppose it +is the mirrors and decorations.”</p> + +<p>“And the people?” Brendon asked. “What do you think of them?”</p> + +<p>Anna extended her critical survey and shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“What can one say?” she exclaimed. “Did you ever see women so +weary-looking and so dowdy? They do not talk. They seem to spend their +time yawning and inspecting their neighbour’s dresses through those +hateful glasses. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse +their menkind.”</p> + +<p>Two young men on their way down the room came suddenly to a standstill +before Anna. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half +extended his hand with a smile of recognition.</p> + +<p>“Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. “Glad to see you in London. No +idea that you were here, though.”</p> + +<p>Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition.</p> + +<p>“My name is certainly Pellissier,” she said, “but I am very sorry—I +do not recognize you in the least.”</p> + +<p>The tall young man dropped his eye-glass and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Had the pleasure of dining with you at the ‘Ambassador’s’ one night, +before the show, you know—last September I think it was. Charley +Pevenill was our host. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage.”</p> + +<p>Anna had suddenly stiffened. She regarded the young man coldly. Her +tone was icy.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that you are making a mistake,” she said. “I was never at +any such dinner, and I am quite sure that I do not know you.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you remember me, Miss Pellissier,” the second young man +interposed. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I +believe.”</p> + +<p>A spot of colour flared in Anna’s cheek as she glanced towards the +speaker. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his +deferential tone, maddened her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p><p>“To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have +never seen either of you before in my life.”</p> + +<p>For a fraction of a second the two young men hesitated. Then the +foremost bowed and passed on.</p> + +<p>“I am exceedingly sorry,” he said. “Pray accept my apologies.”</p> + +<p>“And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering +upon his lips.</p> + +<p>They took their places at a distant table. Anna sat quite still for a +moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. She +laughed softly, and leaned across the table.</p> + +<p>“Do not look so uncomfortable, both of you,” she begged. “Those young +men startled me at first, because they knew my name. I am quite sure +though that they did not mean to be rude.”</p> + +<p>“Impudent beggars,” Sydney growled. “I never wanted to kick any one so +much in my life as that second fellow.”</p> + +<p>“I think,” Anna said, “that it was only his manner. Do look at this +tragedy in mauve, who has just come in. What can she be? The wife of a +country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. +What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!”</p> + +<p>They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation. A familiar figure was +making his way towards them. Sydney sprang up.</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. “Hullo!”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw, haggard, his deep-set eyes more brilliant than ever, took +Anna’s hand into his, and breathed a little close drawn sigh of +content. He was introduced to Brendon, and a chair was brought by an +attentive waiter. He declined supper, but took wine.</p> + +<p>“Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. “It was +only yesterday I had your letter, and you never mentioned coming +over.”</p> + +<p>“I had some unexpected business,” Courtlaw answered shortly.</p> + +<p>“And how did you find us here?”</p> + +<p>“I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. Mrs. +White told me where to find you.”</p> + +<p>He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. Yet either the rest or +the wine seemed already to have done him good. The lines about his +mouth gradually softened. He talked very little and rather absently. +In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little +party. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p><p>“Please let me drive you home. I want to talk to you, and I must +return to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Anna hesitated.</p> + +<p>“We are Mr. Brendon’s guests,” she said, “and I scarcely think it +would be nice of me to leave him alone with Sydney.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw turned abruptly to Brendon.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Brendon,” he said, “may I rob you of your guest just for the +drive home? I have only a few hours in England, and Miss Pellissier is +an old friend.”</p> + +<p>“By all means,” Brendon answered. “We will follow you in another cab.”</p> + +<p>They passed out on to the pavement, and the commissionaire called a +hansom. The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and +as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her +hand. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. It was a letter. She +slipped it calmly into her pocket. The commissionaire smiled. It was a +sovereign easily earned.</p> + +<p>The hansom drove off. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and +imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. She glanced into his face. +It was enough.</p> + +<p>“I have stood it for a month, Anna,” he exclaimed. “You will not even +answer my letters. I could not keep away any longer.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think that it was wise of you, or kind to come?” she asked +quietly.</p> + +<p>“Wise! Kind! What mockery words are! I came because I had to. I cannot +live without you, Anna. Come back—you must come back. We can be +married to-morrow in Paris. There! You are trying to take your hand +away.”</p> + +<p>“You disappoint me,” she said wearily. “You are talking like a boy. +What is the use of it? I do not wish to marry you. I do not wish to +return to Paris. You are doing your best to break our friendship.”</p> + +<p>“It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of +friendship between you and me. It is not the woman who speaks there. +It is the vapouring school girl. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and +I believe that you love me. You are necessary to me. I shall give you +my life, every moment and thought of my life. You must come back. See +what you have made of me. I cannot work, I cannot teach. You have +grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out.”</p> + +<p>Anna was silent. She was trembling a little. The man’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>passion was +infectious. She had to school herself to speak the words which she +knew would cut him like a knife.</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken, David. I have counted you, and always hoped to +count you, the best of my friends. But I do not love you. I do not +love any one.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe it,” he answered hoarsely. “We have come too close +together for me to believe it. You care for me a little, I know. I +will teach you how to make that little sufficient.”</p> + +<p>“You came to tell me this?”</p> + +<p>“I came for you,” he declared fiercely.</p> + +<p>The hansom sped through the crowded streets. Anna suddenly leaned +forward and looked around her.</p> + +<p>“We are not going the right way,” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“You are coming my way,” Courtlaw answered. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be +merciful. You care for me just a little, I know. You are alone in the +world, you have no one save yourself to consider. Come back with me +to-night. Your old rooms are there, if you choose. I kept them on +myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of +it all nearly sent me mad.”</p> + +<p>Anna lifted her hand and pushed open the trap door.</p> + +<p>“Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered.</p> + +<p>The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. Courtlaw sat +with folded arms. He said nothing.</p> + +<p>“My friend,” she said, “no! Let me tell you this. Nothing would induce +me to marry you, or any man at present. I am a pauper, and as yet I +have not discovered how to earn money. I am determined to fight my own +little battle with the world—there must be a place for me somewhere, +and I mean to find it. Afterwards, it may be different. If I were to +marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of +parasitical creature without blood or muscle. I should lose every +scrap of independence—even my self-respect. However good you were to +me, and however happy I was in other ways, I should find this +intolerable.”</p> + +<p>“All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to +take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for +independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really +cared.”</p> + +<p>“Then perhaps,” she answered, with a new coldness in her tone, +“perhaps I really do not care. No, don’t interrupt me. I think that I +am a little disappointed in you. You appear to be amongst those strong +enough in all ordinary matters, but who <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>seem to think it quite +natural and proper to give in at once and play the weakling +directly—one cares. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force +oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the +world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, +self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life. I cannot do it, David. +Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it.”</p> + +<p>He was strangely silent. He did not even reply to her for several +minutes.</p> + +<p>“I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. “I speak from my +heart, and you answer from your brain.”</p> + +<p>“Believe me that I have answered you wisely,” she said, in a gentler +tone, “wisely for you too, as well as myself. And now you must go +back, take up your work and think all this over. Presently you will +see that I am right, and then you shall take your vacation over here, +and we will be good comrades again.”</p> + +<p>He smiled bitterly as he handed her from the cab. He declined to come +in.</p> + +<p>“Will you tell Sydney that I will see him in the morning,” he said. “I +am staying at the Savoy. He can come round there.”</p> + +<p>“You will shake hands with me, please,” she begged.</p> + +<p>He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers. Something he saw +there made him feel for a moment ashamed. He pressed the long shapely +hand warmly in his.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” he said earnestly. “Please forgive me. You are right. +Quite right.”</p> + +<p>She was able to go straight to her room without delay, and she at once +locked the door with a little sigh of relief. She found herself +struggling with a storm of tears.</p> + +<p>A sob was strangled in her throat. She struggled fiercely not to give +way.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. “I am lonely. If I could but——”</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune +to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs +kept rising in her throat. As she drew off her skirt she felt +something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the +commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. She tore open the +envelope and read it.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">“My Dear Girl</span>,—</p> + +<p>“I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>fact +is I was so glad to see you again that it never occurred to me +that a little discretion might be advisable. I’m afraid I’m a +terribly clumsy fellow.</p> + +<p>“I hope that you are going to allow me to see something of you +during your stay in London, for the sake of old times. Could you +come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me +somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of +course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at +the theatre. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. +May we not repeat them once, at any rate, in London?</p> + +<p class="right">“Ever yours,</p> + +<p class="right2">“<span class="smcap">Nigel Ennison</span>. +</p> + +<p>“P.S. My address is 94, Pall Mall.”</p></div> + +<p>Anna read, and her cheeks grew slowly scarlet. She crushed the letter +in her hand.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_X" id="Chapter_X"></a><i>Chapter X</i></h2> + +<h3>THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE</h3> + +<p>Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of +accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table +at a crowded A.B.C., and munched a roll and butter with hearty +appetite.</p> + +<p>“If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. “I wonder +why I am always hungry nowadays. It is so ridiculous.”</p> + +<p>She lingered over her tea, and glancing around, a sudden reflection on +the change in her surroundings from the scene of her last night’s +supper brought a faint, humorous smile to her lips.</p> + +<p>“In two days,” she reflected, “Mrs. White will present her bill. I +have one shilling and sevenpence halfpenny left. I have two days in +which to earn nearly thirty shillings—that is with no dinners, and +get a situation. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at +Bohemianism.”</p> + +<p>“So far,” she continued, eyeing hungrily the last morsel of roll which +lay upon her plate, “my only chance of occupation has lain with a +photographer who engaged me on the spot and insulted me in half an +hour. What beasts men are! I cannot typewrite, my three stories are +still wandering round, two milliners have refused me as a lay figure +because business was so bad. I am no use for a clerk, because I do not +understand shorthand. After all, I fancy that I shall have to apply +for a situation as a nursery governess who understands French. Faugh!”</p> + +<p>She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between +her long slim fingers. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse +for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. She +rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards.</p> + +<p>She walked with long swinging steps, scorning the thought of buses or +the tube. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had +already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. Asking her +way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and +crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. Here she walked more +slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. One she +entered and met with a sharp <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>rebuff, which she appeared to receive +unmoved. But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were +clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. +It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison.</p> + +<p>He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, <i>debonnair</i>, +good-looking. Directly he saw Anna he accosted her. His manner was +deferential, even eager. Anna, who was disposed to be sharply +critical, could find no fault with it.</p> + +<p>“How fortunate I am, Miss Pellissier! All day I have been hoping that +I might run across you. You got my note?”</p> + +<p>“I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted.</p> + +<p>“You were going to answer it?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not!” she said deliberately.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with an expression of comical despair.</p> + +<p>“What have I done, Miss Pellissier?” he pleaded. “We were good friends +in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no +end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you +disappeared. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me. You +seem altogether altered, too. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, +aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I certainly am,” she admitted.</p> + +<p>He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way.</p> + +<p>“Of course!” he said. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are +less friendly.”</p> + +<p>She laughed. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, +and very likely Annabel had behaved badly.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. It depresses one, you +know.”</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>“You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. “But, +forgive me, you are tired. Won’t you come and have some tea with me? +There is a new place in Bond Street,” he hastened to say, “where +everything is very well done, and they give us music, if that is any +attraction to you.”</p> + +<p>She hesitated and looked for a moment straight into his eyes. He +certainly bore inspection. He was tall and straight, and his +expression was good.</p> + +<p>“I will come—with pleasure,” she said, “if you will promise to treat +me as a new acquaintance—not to refer to—Paris—at all.”</p> + +<p>“I promise,” he answered heartily. “Allow me.”</p> + +<p>He took his place by her side, and they talked lightly of London, the +shops and people. They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and +everything was delicious. Anna, with her marvellous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>capacity for +enjoyment, ate cakes and laughed, and forgot that she had had tea an +hour or so ago at an A.B.C., or that she had a care in the world.</p> + +<p>“By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old +Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the +papers.”</p> + +<p>Anna never flinched. But after the first shock came a warm glow of +relief. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel +could not have known her address.</p> + +<p>“My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each +other lately. I fancy that Sir John does not approve of me.”</p> + +<p>Ennison shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Sort of man who can see no further than his nose,” he remarked +contemptuously. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of +yours putting up with him for a moment. I thought perhaps you were +staying with them, as you did not seem particularly anxious to +recognize your old friends.”</p> + +<p>Anna shook her head.</p> + +<p>“No, I am alone,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“Then we must try and make London endurable for you,” he remarked +cheerfully. “What night will you dine and go to the theatre with +me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?”</p> + +<p>Anna shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” she said coolly. “Those things are not for me just at +present.”</p> + +<p>He was obviously puzzled. Anna sighed as she reflected that her sister +had simply revelled in her indiscretions.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. There must be +something we can do. What do you say to Brighton——”</p> + +<p>Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence.</p> + +<p>“May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired +deferentially. “Perhaps your engagements are made for you.”</p> + +<p>“I am staying,” she answered coolly, “at a small boarding-house near +Russell Square.”</p> + +<p>He dropped his eye-glass with a clatter.</p> + +<p>“At a boarding-house?” he gasped.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I am an independent sort of person,” she continued, “and I am +engaged in an attempt to earn my own living. You don’t happen to know +of any one, I suppose, who wants a nursery <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>governess, or a +clerk—without shorthand—or a tryer-on, or a copyist, or——”</p> + +<p>“For Heaven’s sake stop, Miss Pellissier,” he interrupted. “What a +hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, +why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?”</p> + +<p>“An engagement?” she queried.</p> + +<p>“On the stage? Yes. You would not have the slightest difficulty.”</p> + +<p>She laughed softly to herself.</p> + +<p>“Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?”</p> + +<p>He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could +possibly be in earnest.</p> + +<p>“I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever +have occurred to you. You do not need me to remind you of your success +at Paris. The papers are continually wondering what has become of +‘Alcide.’ Your name alone would fill any music hall in London.”</p> + +<p>Again that curious smile which puzzled him so much parted her lips for +a moment.</p> + +<p>“Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. I can’t imagine +Londoners—particularly interested in me.”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders. Even now he was not at all sure that she +was not playing with him. There were so many things about her which he +could not understand. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“I am very much obliged for the tea,” she said. “This is a charming +place, and I have enjoyed the rest.”</p> + +<p>“It was a delightful piece of good fortune that I should have met +you,” he answered. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will +give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid,” she said, preceding him down the narrow stairs, “that I +am going to be too busy to have much time for gadding about. However, +I daresay that we shall come across one another before long.”</p> + +<p>“That is provokingly indefinite,” he answered, a little ruefully. +“Won’t you give me your address?”</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said. “I feel +quite sure that Mrs. White would not approve of callers.”</p> + +<p>“I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling. “I must try the +Directory.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>“I wish you good luck,” she answered. “There are a good many Whites in +London.”</p> + +<p>“May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick.</p> + +<p>“For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly. “Do you want to ruin +me? I shall walk back.”</p> + +<p>“I may come a little way, then?” he begged.</p> + +<p>“If you think it worth while,” she answered doubtfully.</p> + +<p>Apparently he thought it very much worth while. Restraining with an +effort his intense curiosity, he talked of general subjects only, +trying his best to entertain her. He succeeded so well that they were +almost in Montague Street before Anna stopped short.</p> + +<p>“Heavens!” she exclaimed. “I have brought you very nearly to my door. +Go back at once, please.”</p> + +<p>He held out his hand obediently.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out.”</p> + +<p>For a moment she was grave.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said. “I may be leaving where I am in a few days, so very +likely you will be no better off.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her intently.</p> + +<p>“Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I don’t understand this change in you. +Every word you utter puzzles me. I have an idea that you are in some +sort of trouble. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?”</p> + +<p>He was obviously in earnest. His tone was kind and sympathetic.</p> + +<p>“You are very good,” she said. “Indeed I shall not forget your offer. +But just now there is nothing which you or anybody can do. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>He was dismissed, and he understood it. Anna crossed the street, and +letting herself in at No. 13 with a latchkey went humming lightly up +to her room. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she +had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or +no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she +was not a whit nearer being able to pay her to-morrow’s bill.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XI" id="Chapter_XI"></a><i>Chapter XI</i></h2> + +<h3>THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON</h3> + +<p>Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. +There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. +Besides, she had admitted her identity. And yet—he thought of the +supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about +her, his own few minutes’ whispered love-making! 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. He went over her features one by one in his +mind. They were the same. He could not doubt it. There was the same +airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. +He found himself thinking up all the psychology which he had ever +read. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the +person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of +being.</p> + +<p>He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he +found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to +which he belonged. After the usual laconic greetings, he drew him on +one side.</p> + +<p>“Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the +‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was +singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” his friend answered. “<i>La belle</i> ‘Alcide,’ wasn’t it? +Annabel Pellissier was her real name. Jolly nice girl, too.”</p> + +<p>Ennison nodded.</p> + +<p>“I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. “Do you happen to know +whether she is supposed to be here?”</p> + +<p>“Very likely indeed,” Captain Fred Meddoes answered, lighting a +cigarette. “I heard that she had chucked her show at the French places +and gone in for a reform all round. Sister’s got married to that +bounder Ferringhall.”</p> + +<p>Ennison took an easy chair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p><p>“What a little brick!” he murmured. “She must have character. It’s no +half reform either. What do you know about her, Fred? I am +interested.”</p> + +<p>Meddoes turned round from the table on which he was practising shots +and shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Not much,” he answered, “and yet about all there is to be known, I +fancy. There were two sisters, you know. Old Jersey and Hampshire +family, the Pellissiers, and a capital stock, too, I believe.”</p> + +<p>“Any one could see that the girls were ladies,” Ennison murmured.</p> + +<p>“No doubt about that,” Meddoes continued. “The father was in the army, +and got a half-pay job at St. Heliers. Died short, I suppose, and the +girls had to shift for themselves. One went in for painting, kept +straight and married old Ferringhall a week or so ago—the Lord help +her. The other kicked over the traces a bit, made rather a hit with +her singing at some of those French places, and went the pace in a +mild, ladylike sort of way. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, +then. If she’s over, he probably knows all about it.”</p> + +<p>Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his +forefinger.</p> + +<p>“So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. “He ran some +Austrian fellow off. She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. +Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and +eyes, and a style about her, too. Care for a hundred up?”</p> + +<p>Ennison shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. “See you to-night, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>He sauntered off.</p> + +<p>“I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely.</p> + +<p>But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over +from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy.</p> + +<p>“Odd thing,” Meddoes remarked, “we were just talking about the +Pellissier girl. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall +rounded upon them all at the club.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p><p>“Sounds interesting,” Ennison remarked. “May I hear?”</p> + +<p>“It really isn’t much to tell,” Drummond answered. “You know what a +fearful old prig Ferringhall is, always goes about as though the whole +world were watching him? We tried to show him around Paris, but he +wouldn’t have any of it. Talked about his years, his position and his +constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the +fun was going to begin. Well one night, some of us saw him, or thought +we saw him, at a café dining with ‘Alcide,’—as a matter of fact, it +seems that it was her sister. He came into the club next day, and of +course we went for him thick. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can +tell you. Stood on his dignity and shut us up in great style. It seems +that he was a sort of family friend of the Pellissiers, and it was the +artist sister whom he was with. The joke of it is that he’s married to +her now, and cuts me dead.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose,” Ennison said, “the likeness between the sisters must be +rather exceptional?”</p> + +<p>“I never saw the goody-goody one close to, so I can’t say,” Drummond +answered. “Certainly I was a little way off at the café, and she had a +hat and veil on, but I could have sworn that it was ‘Alcide.’”</p> + +<p>“Is ‘Alcide’ still in Paris?” Ennison asked.</p> + +<p>“Don’t think so,” Drummond answered. “I heard the other day that she’d +been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in +Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. Anyhow, she’s +disappeared for some reason or other. Perhaps Ferringhall has +pensioned her off. He’s the sort of johnny who wouldn’t care about +having a sister-in-law on the loose.”</p> + +<p>“Ennison here thought he saw her in London,” Meddoes remarked.</p> + +<p>Drummond nodded.</p> + +<p>“Very likely. The two sisters were very fond of one another, I +believe. Perhaps Sir John is going to take the other one under his +wing. Who’s for a rubber of whist?”</p> + +<p>Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the +evening. He walked across the Park and called upon his sister.</p> + +<p>“Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler.</p> + +<p>“Her ladyship dined at home,” the man answered. “I have just ordered a +carriage for her. I believe that her ladyship is going to Carey House, +and on to the Marquis of Waterford’s ball,” he added, hastily +consulting a diary on the hall table.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><p>A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the +broad staircase.</p> + +<p>“Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. “I hope you are going to Carey +House.”</p> + +<p>He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit +apartment on the ground floor.</p> + +<p>“Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. “I want to speak +to you.”</p> + +<p>She assented, smiling. He was her only brother, and she his favourite +sister. He closed the door.</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you a question,” he said. “A serious question.”</p> + +<p>She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him.</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“You and all the rest of them are always lamenting that I do not +marry. Supposing I made up my mind to marry some one of good enough +family, but who was in a somewhat doubtful position, concerning whose +antecedents, in fact there was a certain amount of scandal. Would you +stand by me—and her?”</p> + +<p>“My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. “Are you serious?”</p> + +<p>“You know very well that I should never joke on such a subject. Mind, +I am anticipating events. Nothing is settled upon. It may be, it +probably will all come to, nothing. But I want to know whether in such +an event you would stand by me?”</p> + +<p>She held out her hand.</p> + +<p>“You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. “But for you Dad would never +have let me marry Lescelles. He was only a younger son, and you know +what trouble we had. I am with you through thick and thin, Nigel.”</p> + +<p>He kissed her, and handed her into the carriage. Then he went back to +his rooms and lit a cigar.</p> + +<p>“There are two things to be done,” he said softly to himself. “The +first is to discover what she is here for, and where she is staying. +The second is to somehow meet Lady Ferringhall. These fellows must be +right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XII" id="Chapter_XII"></a><i>Chapter XII</i></h2> + +<h3>THE POSTER OF “ALCIDE”</h3> + +<p>On Saturday mornings there was deposited on the plate of each guest at +breakfast time, a long folded paper with Mrs. White’s compliments. +Anna thrust hers into her pocket unopened, and for the first time left +the house without a smile upon her face. She was practically destitute +of jewellery. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a +very scanty lunch. Another day of non-success would mean many +disagreeable things.</p> + +<p>And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of +hers was a slender reed on which to lean. She mounted the stairs of +the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual +buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general +appearance of the room into which she was shown. There was already a +score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, +others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. Beyond was another +door, on which was painted in black letters:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Mr. Earles</span>,<br /> +Strictly Private</p> + +<p>Every one stared at Anna. Anna stared back at every one with undaunted +composure. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, +advanced towards her languidly.</p> + +<p>“Want to see Mr. Earles?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“I do,” Anna answered. “Here is my card. Will you take it in to him?”</p> + +<p>The young man smiled in a superior manner.</p> + +<p>“Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically. “There’s twenty +before you, and Mr. Earles is going out at twelve sharp—important +engagement. Better come another morning.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” Anna answered. “I will take my chance.”</p> + +<p>She removed some posters from a chair, and seated herself coolly. The +young man looked at her.</p> + +<p>“Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll +only waste your time here.”</p> + +<p>“I can spare it,” Anna answered suavely.</p> + +<p>The young man entered into a lively little war of words with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>a +yellow-haired young person near the door. Anna picked up an ancient +magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way. The +conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again +all around her. A quarter of an hour passed. Then the inner door +opened abruptly. A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly +through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently +anxious to avoid being detained. Mr. Earles himself stood upon the +threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with +black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. A +florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly.</p> + +<p>“I’m next, Mr. Earles,” she exclaimed. “Been sitting on the doorstep +almost for two hours.”</p> + +<p>“In a minute, in a minute,” he answered, his eyes fixed upon Anna. +“Reuben, come here.”</p> + +<p>The young man obeyed the summons. His employer retreated into the +further apartment, leaving the door ajar.</p> + +<p>“What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” +Mr. Earles asked sharply.</p> + +<p>The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. A +sense of impending disaster was upon him. Mr. Earles glanced at it, +and his eyes flashed with anger.</p> + +<p>“You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Earles strode into the waiting-room. His face was wreathed in +smiles, his be-ringed hand was cordially outstretched.</p> + +<p>“My dear Miss Pellissier,” he said impressively, “this is an +unexpected pleasure. Come in! Come in, do. I must apologize for my +young puppy of a clerk. If I had known that you were here you should +not have been kept waiting for a second.”</p> + +<p>It took a good deal to surprise Anna, but it was all she could do to +follow Mr. Earles with composure into the inner room. There was a +little murmur of consternation from the waiting crowd, and the florid +young woman showed signs of temper, to which Mr. Earles was absolutely +indifferent. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed +his own between her and the door.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. It was only a few months +ago that I told you you must come to London, and you only laughed at +me. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. +By-the-bye,” he added, in a suddenly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>altered tone, “I hope, I +trust—that you have not entered into any arrangements with any one +here?”</p> + +<p>“I—oh no!” Anna said, a little faintly. “I have made no arrangements +as yet—none at all.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Earles recovered his spirits.</p> + +<p>“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Your arrival is really most opportune. The +halls are on the lookout for something new. By-the-bye, do you +recognize that?”</p> + +<p>Anna looked and gasped. An enormous poster almost covered one side of +the wall—<i>the</i> poster. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black +dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and +astonishing likeness of herself. It was her figure, her style of +dress, her manner of arranging the hair. Mr. Earles regarded it +approvingly.</p> + +<p>“A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. “A most wonderful likeness, +too. I hope in a few days, Miss Pellissier, that these posters will be +livening up our London hoardings.”</p> + +<p>Anna leaned back in the chair and laughed softly. Even this man had +accepted her for “Alcide” without a moment’s question. Then all the +embarrassments of the matter flashed in upon her. She was suddenly +grave.</p> + +<p>“I suppose, Mr. Earles,” she said, “that if I were to tell you that +although that poster was designed from a rough study of me, and +although my name is Pellissier, that nevertheless, I am not ‘Alcide’ +would you believe me?”</p> + +<p>“You can try it on, if you like,” Mr. Earles remarked genially. “My +only answer would be to ask you to look at that mirror and then at the +poster. The poster is of ‘Alcide.’ It’s a duplicate of the French +one.”</p> + +<p>Anna got up and looked at the mirror and then at the poster. The +likeness was ridiculous.</p> + +<p>“Well?” she said, sitting down again. “I want an engagement.”</p> + +<p>“Capital!” Mr. Earles declared. “Any choice as to which of the Halls? +You can pick and choose, you know. I recommend the ‘Unusual.’”</p> + +<p>“I have no choice,” Anna declared.</p> + +<p>“I can get you,” Mr. Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon +her, “forty at the ‘Unusual,’ two turns, encores voluntary, six for +matinées. We should not bar any engagements at private houses, but in +other respects the arrangement must be exclusive.”</p> + +<p>“Forty what?” Anna asked bewildered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p><p>“Guineas, of course,” Mr. Earles answered, glibly. “Forty guineas a +week. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are +expenses, and just now business is bad.”</p> + +<p>Anna was speechless, but she had presence of mind enough to sit still +until she had recovered herself. Mr. Earles watched her anxiously. She +appeared to be considering.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” he ventured, “I could try for more at the ‘Alhambra.’ Very +likely they would give——”</p> + +<p>“I should be satisfied with the sum you mention,” Anna said quietly, +“but there are difficulties.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t use such a word, my dear young lady,” Mr. Earles said +persuasively. “Difficulties indeed. We’ll make short work of them.”</p> + +<p>“I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. “In the first +place, I have no objection to the posters, as they have no name on +them, but I do not wish to appear at all upon the stage as ‘Alcide.’ +If you engage me it must be upon my own merits. You are taking it for +granted that I am ‘Alcide.’ As a matter of fact, I am not.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” Mr. Earles said, “but this is rubbish.”</p> + +<p>“Call it what you like,” Anna answered. “I can sing the songs ‘Alcide’ +sang, and in the same style. But I will not be engaged as ‘Alcide’ or +advertised under that name.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. Then a light +seemed to break in upon him. He slapped his knee.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Of course, I remember now. It was your +sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?”</p> + +<p>Anna nodded.</p> + +<p>“It was,” she admitted.</p> + +<p>“You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. Earles declared. “I see the +difficulty. The old fool’s been working on you through your sister to +keep off the stage. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir +John—doesn’t know what an artist is. It’s awkward, but we’ll get +round it somehow. Now I’ll tell you what I propose. Let me run you for +six months. I’ll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of +expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night. +What do you say?”</p> + +<p>“I agree,” Anna said coldly, “if you will make it three months.”</p> + +<p>“Better say six,” Mr. Earles protested, seating himself before the +desk, and dipping his pen in the ink.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p><p>“Four,” Anna decided firmly. “I shall not agree to six.”</p> + +<p>“It scarcely gives me a chance,” Mr. Earles said, with a resigned +sigh, “but I shall rely upon you to stick to me so long as I do the +right thing by you. You can’t do without an agent, and there’s no one +can run you better than I can.”</p> + +<p>“You must also put in the agreement,” Anna said, “that I do not +represent myself to be ‘Alcide,’ and that I am not advertised to the +public by that name.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation.</p> + +<p>“Come this way,” he said.</p> + +<p>He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a +grand piano. He seated himself before it.</p> + +<p>“Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of <i>Les +Petites</i>.”</p> + +<p>He struck a note, and Anna responded. Playing with one hand he turned +on his stool to glance at her. Instinctively she had fallen into the +posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly +forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the +song. Mr. Earles closed the piano with a little bang.</p> + +<p>“You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste +time here. You do not need my compliments. We will get on with the +agreement and you shall have in it whatever rubbish you like.”</p> + +<p>Anna laughed, and went back to her easy chair. She knew that her voice +was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. Whilst she +was wondering how to frame her request for an advance, Mr. Earles drew +out his cheque book.</p> + +<p>“You will not object,” he said, glancing towards her, “to accepting a +deposit. It is customary even where an agreement is drawn.”</p> + +<p>“I shall have no objection at all,” Anna assured him.</p> + +<p>He handed her a cheque for thirty-one pounds, ten shillings, and read +the agreement through to her. Anna took up the pen, and signed, after +a moment’s hesitation,</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A. Pellissier</span>.</p> + +<p>“I will send you a copy,” Mr. Earles said, rubbing his hands together, +“by post. Now, will you do me the honour of lunching with me, Miss +Pellissier?”</p> + +<p>Anna hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any +one—er—connected with the profession, under present <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>circumstances. +If so, do not hesitate to tell me. Be frank, I beg you, Miss +Pellissier. I am already too much flattered that you should have given +me your confidence.”</p> + +<p>“You are very good, Mr. Earles,” Anna said. “I think, perhaps if you +will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you wish,” Mr. Earles declared good-humouredly, “but I shall +not let you go without drinking a glass of wine to our success.”</p> + +<p>He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled +bottle. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help +wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. She +drank her glass of wine, however, and clanked glasses good-naturedly +with Mr. Earles.</p> + +<p>“You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose +to go.</p> + +<p>She wrote it down. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no +remark.</p> + +<p>“I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow +morning,” he said. “Bring any new songs you may have.”</p> + +<p>Anna nodded, and Mr. Earles attended her obsequiously to the door. She +descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. +It was a brief solitude, however. A young man, who had been spending +the last hour walking up and down on the opposite side of the way, +came quickly over to her. She looked up, and recognized Mr. Brendon.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XIII" id="Chapter_XIII"></a><i>Chapter XIII</i></h2> + +<h3>“HE WILL NOT FORGET!”</h3> + +<p>The external changes in Brendon following on his alteration of fortune +were sufficiently noticeable. From head to foot he was attired in the +fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. Not only that, but he +carried himself erect—the slight slouch which had bent his shoulders +had altogether disappeared. He came to her at once, and turning, +walked by her side.</p> + +<p>“Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet +smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring +neighbourhood for walking about by yourself.”</p> + +<p>“I plead guilty, Miss Pellissier,” he answered at once. “I saw you go +into that place, and I have been waiting for you ever since.”</p> + +<p>“I am not sure whether I feel inclined to scold or thank you,” she +declared. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter.”</p> + +<p>He faced her doggedly.</p> + +<p>“Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I am going to take a liberty.”</p> + +<p>“You alarm me,” she murmured, smiling.</p> + +<p>“Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. +“Neither Sydney nor I would think of such a thing. But we can’t help +noticing. You have been going out every morning, and coming home +late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. Forgive me, but you +have been looking, have you not, for some employment?”</p> + +<p>“Quite true!” she answered. “I have found out at last what a useless +person I am—from a utilitarian point of view. It has been very +humiliating.”</p> + +<p>“And that, I suppose,” he said, waving his stick towards Mr. Earles’ +office, “was your last resource.”</p> + +<p>“It certainly was,” she admitted. “I changed my last shilling +yesterday.”</p> + +<p>He was silent for a moment or two. His lips were tight drawn. His eyes +flashed as he turned towards her.</p> + +<p>“Do you think that it is kind of you, Miss Pellissier,” he said, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>almost roughly, “to ignore your friends so? In your heart you know +quite well that you could pay Sydney or me no greater compliment than +to give us just a little of your confidence. We know London, and you +are a stranger here. Surely our advice would have been worth having, +at any rate. You might have spared yourself many useless journeys and +disappointments, and us a good deal of anxiety. Instead, you are +willing to go to a place like that where you ought not to be allowed +to think of showing yourself.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” she asked quietly.</p> + +<p>“The very question shows your ignorance,” he declared. “You know +nothing about the stage. You haven’t an idea what the sort of +employment you could get there would be like, the sort of people you +would be mixed up with. It is positively hateful to think of it.”</p> + +<p>She laid her fingers for a moment upon his arm.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Brendon,” she said, “if I could ask for advice, or borrow money +from any one, I would from you—there! But I cannot. I never could. I +suppose I ought to have been a man. You see, I have had to look after +myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence.”</p> + +<p>“Such independence,” he answered quickly, “is a vice. You see to what +it has brought you. You are going to accept a post as chorus girl, or +super, or something of that sort.”</p> + +<p>“You do not flatter me,” she laughed.</p> + +<p>“I am too much in earnest,” he answered, “to be able to take this +matter lightly.”</p> + +<p>“I am rebuked,” she declared. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible. +But seriously, things are not so bad as you think.”</p> + +<p>He groaned.</p> + +<p>“They never seem so at first!” he said.</p> + +<p>“You do not quite understand,” she said gently. “I will tell you the +truth. It is true that I have accepted an engagement from Mr. Earles, +but it is a good one. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a +super. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather +well. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was +quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing +professionally or try painting. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but +my voice remains.”</p> + +<p>“You are really going on the stage, then?” he said slowly.</p> + +<p>“In a sense—yes.”</p> + +<p>Brendon went very pale.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p><p>“Miss Pellissier,” he said, “don’t!”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” she asked, smiling. “I must live, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t told any one the amount,” he went on. “It sounds too +ridiculous. But I have two hundred thousand pounds. Will you marry +me?”</p> + +<p>Anna looked at him in blank amazement. Then she burst into a peal of +laughter.</p> + +<p>“My dear boy,” she exclaimed. “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that +money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don +Quixote like this. It doesn’t matter with me, but there are at least a +dozen young women in Mr. Earles’ waiting-room who would march you +straight off to a registrar’s office.”</p> + +<p>“You have not answered my question,” he reminded her.</p> + +<p>“Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. “I am going to ignore it. +It was really very nice of you, but to-morrow you will laugh at it as +I do now.”</p> + +<p>“Is it necessary,” he said, “for me to tell you——”</p> + +<p>“Stop, please,” she said firmly.</p> + +<p>Brendon was silent.</p> + +<p>“Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued. “I like to +think of your offer. It was impulsive and natural. Now let us forget +it.”</p> + +<p>“I understand,” he said, doggedly.</p> + +<p>“And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” +she declared lightly. “I will tell you something if you like. One of +the reasons why I left Paris and came to London was because there was +a man there who wanted me to marry him. I really cared for him a +little, but I am absolutely determined not to marry for some time at +any rate. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. One +can learn and understand only by personal experience, by actual +contact with the realities of life. I did not want anything made +smooth and easy for me. That is why I would not marry this man whom I +did and whom I do care for a little. Later on—well then the time may +come. Then perhaps I shall send for him if he has not forgotten.”</p> + +<p>“I do not know who he is,” Brendon said quietly, “but he will not +forget.”</p> + +<p>Anna shrugged her shoulders lightly.</p> + +<p>“Who can tell?” she said. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. It is +generally deficient in the qualities it prides itself upon most. Men +do not understand constancy as women do.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p><p>Brendon was not inclined to be led away from the point.</p> + +<p>“We will take it then,” he said, “that you have refused or ignored one +request I have made you this morning. I have yet another. Let me lend +you some money. Between comrades it is the most usual thing in the +world, and I do not see how your sex intervenes. Let me keep you from +that man’s clutches. Then we can look out together for such +employment—as would be more suitable for you. I know London better +than you, and I have had to earn my own living. You cannot refuse me +this.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her anxiously, and she met his glance with a dazzling +smile of gratitude.</p> + +<p>“Indeed,” she said, “I would not. But it is no longer necessary. I +cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the +present. I will tell you what you shall give me, if you like.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Lunch! I am hungry—tragically hungry.”</p> + +<p>He called for a hansom.</p> + +<p>“After all,” he said, “I am not sure that you are not a very material +person.”</p> + +<p>“I am convinced of it,” she answered. “Let us go to that little place +at the back of the Palace. I’m not half smart enough for the West +End.”</p> + +<p>“Wherever you like!” he answered, a little absently.</p> + +<p>They alighted at the restaurant, and stood for a moment in the passage +looking into the crowded room. Suddenly a half stifled exclamation +broke from Anna’s lips. Brendon felt his arm seized. In a moment they +were in the street outside. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom.</p> + +<p>“Tell him to drive—anywhere,” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her +side. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant. The +commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. There was no one +else in the doorway. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a +little sigh of relief. A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced +towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. Her sense of humour +could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity.</p> + +<p>“I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled +myself. I saw someone in there whom I have always hoped that I should +never meet again. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me.”</p> + +<p>“He certainly did not follow you out,” Brendon answered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p><p>“His back was towards me,” Anna said. “I saw his face in a mirror. I +wonder——”</p> + +<p>“London is a huge place,” Brendon said. “Even if he lives here you may +go all your life and never come face to face with him again.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XIV" id="Chapter_XIV"></a><i>Chapter XIV</i></h2> + +<h3>“THIS IS MY WIFE”</h3> + +<p>Anna, notwithstanding her momentary fright in the middle of the day, +was in high spirits. She felt that for a time at any rate her +depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. She had +paid her bill, and she had enough left in her purse to pay many such. +Beyond that everything was nebulous. She knew that in her new rôle she +was as likely as not to be a rank failure. But the relief from the +strain of her immediate necessities was immense. She had been in the +drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had +chattered gaily to every one. Now, in her old place, she was doing her +best thoroughly to enjoy a most indifferent dinner.</p> + +<p>“Your brother has gone?” she asked Sydney, between the courses.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>“Yes. David left this afternoon. I do not think that he has quite got +over his surprise at finding you established here.”</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>“After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. “Of course, one +lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. I think that a +boarding-house is the very best place for a woman who wants to develop +her sense of humour. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of +a second-hand clothes shop.”</p> + +<p>Sydney looked at her doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he +remarked. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. I don’t! Please +enlighten me.”</p> + +<p>She laughed gaily—and she had a way when she laughed of throwing back +her head and showing her beautiful white teeth, so that mirth from her +was a thing very much to be desired.</p> + +<p>“Look round the table,” she said. “Aren’t we all just odds and ends of +humanity—the left-overs, you know. There is something inconglomerate +about us. We are amiable to one another, but we don’t mix. We can’t.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p><p>“You and I and Brendon get on all right, don’t we?” Sydney objected.</p> + +<p>“But that’s quite different,” replied Anna. “You are neither of you in +the least like the ordinary boarding-house young man. You don’t wear a +dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, +or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the +evening, or play at being musical. Besides——”</p> + +<p>She stopped short. She herself, and one other there, recognized the +interposition of something akin to tragedy. A thickly-set, sandy young +man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had +entered the room. He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his +chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had +seen better days. He bowed awkwardly to Mrs. White, who held out her +hand and beamed a welcome upon him.</p> + +<p>“Now isn’t this nice!” that lady exclaimed. “I’m sure we’re all +delighted to see you again, Mr. Hill. I do like to see old friends +back here. If there’s any one here whom you have not met I will make +you acquainted with them after dinner. Will you take your old place by +Miss Ellicot.”</p> + +<p>Miss Ellicot swept aside her skirts from the vacant chair and welcomed +the newcomer with one of her most engaging smiles.</p> + +<p>“We were afraid that you had deserted us for good, Mr. Hill,” she said +graciously. “I suppose Paris is very, very distracting. You must come +and tell me all about it, although I am not sure whether we shall +forgive you for not having written to any of us.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations +around the table.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, ma’am. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. +“Looks like old times here, I see. Sorry I’m a bit late the first +evening. Got detained in the City, and——”</p> + +<p>Then he met the fixed, breathless gaze of those wonderful eyes from +the other side of the table, and he, too, broke off in the middle of +his sentence. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. His +large, coarse lips drew wider apart. Slowly a mirthless and very +unpleasant smile dawned upon his face.</p> + +<p>“Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. “Why—it’s—it’s you!”</p> + +<p>Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. The girl +regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. Only in her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>eyes there seemed +to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and +manners were alike undesirable things.</p> + +<p>“Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. “I am afraid that you are +making a mistake. I am quite sure that I do not know you.”</p> + +<p>A dull flush burned upon his cheeks. He took his seat at the table, +but leaned forward to address her. A note of belligerency had crept +into his tone.</p> + +<p>“Don’t know me, eh? I like that. You are—or rather you were——” he +corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, +eh?”</p> + +<p>A little sensation followed upon his words. Miss Ellicot pursed her +lips and sat a little more upright. The lady whose husband had been +Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. Mrs. White became +conscious of a distinct sense of uneasiness, and showed it in her +face. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who +cared to listen, to be so very particular. On the other hand the two +young men who sat on either side of Anna were already throwing +murderous glances at the newcomer.</p> + +<p>“My name,” Anna replied calmly, “is certainly Pellissier, but I repeat +that I do not know you. I never have known you.”</p> + +<p>He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time. His +eyes never left her face. An ugly flush stained his cheeks.</p> + +<p>“I’ve plenty of pals,” he said, “who, when they’ve been doing Paris on +the Q.T., like to forget all about it—even their names. But you——”</p> + +<p>Something seemed to catch his breath. He never finished his sentence. +There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. If only he +had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. Anna was no +favourite at No. 13 Montague Street.</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“You appear,” she said, without any sign of anger in her tone, and +with unruffled composure, “to be a very impertinent person. Do you +mind talking to some one else.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed +to throw oil upon the troubled waters.</p> + +<p>“Come,” she said. “We mustn’t have any unpleasantness, and Mr. Hill’s +first night back amongst us, too. No doubt there’s some little +mistake. We all get deceived sometimes. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>Mr. Hill, I hope you won’t +find everything cold. You’re a little late, you must remember, and we +are punctual people here.”</p> + +<p>“I shall do very well, thank you, ma’am,” he answered shortly.</p> + +<p>Sydney and Brendon vied with one another in their efforts to engage +Anna in conversation, and Miss Ellicot, during the momentary lull, +deemed it a favourable opportunity to recommence siege operations. The +young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious +attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. +Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention +apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna +with a curious mixture of expressions on his face.</p> + +<p>Anna rose a few minutes before the general company. At the same time +Sydney and Brendon also vacated their places. To reach the door they +had to pass the end of the table, and behind the chair where Mr. Hill +was seated. He rose deliberately to his feet and confronted them.</p> + +<p>“I should like to speak to you for a few minutes,” he said to Anna, +dropping his voice a little. “It is no good playing a game. We had +better have it over.”</p> + +<p>She eyed him scornfully. In any place her beauty would have been an +uncommon thing. Here, where every element of her surroundings was +tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and +appearance, it was striking.</p> + +<p>“I do not know you,” she said coldly. “I have nothing to say to you.”</p> + +<p>He stood before the door. Brendon made a quick movement forward. She +laid her hand upon his arm.</p> + +<p>“Please don’t,” she said. “It really is not necessary. Be so good as +to let me pass, sir,” she added, looking her obstructor steadily in +the face.</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>“This is all rot!” he declared angrily. “You can’t think that I’m fool +enough to be put off like this.”</p> + +<p>She glanced at Brendon, who stood by her side, tall and threatening. +Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. A faint, delightfully +humorous smile parted her lips.</p> + +<p>“After all,” she said, “if this person will not be reasonable, I am +afraid——”</p> + +<p>It was enough. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s +shoulder.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p><p>“Be so good as to stand away from that door at once, sir,” Brendon +ordered.</p> + +<p>Hill lost a little of his truculency. He knew very well that his +muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. He +was no match for Brendon. He yielded his place and struck instead with +his tongue. He turned to Mrs. White.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he +pointed to Anna, “is my wife.”</p> + +<p>The sensation produced was gratifying enough. The man’s statement was +explicit, and spoken with confidence. Every one looked at Anna. For a +moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. Her +fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. She +caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. She +recovered herself, however, with amazing facility. Scarcely any one +noticed the full measure of her consternation. From the threshold she +looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face.</p> + +<p>“What you have said is a ridiculous falsehood,” she declared +scornfully. “I do not even know who you are.”</p> + +<p>She swept out of the room. Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. +White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either +side. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way +upstairs.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a +partition right across it. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and +Sydney dragged out the spirit-lamp and set it going. Anna opened a +cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee.</p> + +<p>“Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to +buy the next pound, Sydney.”</p> + +<p>“Right!” he answered. “I’ll bring it to-morrow. Fresh ground, no +chicory, and all the rest of it. But—Miss Pellissier!”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Are you quite sure that you want us this evening? Wouldn’t you rather +be alone? Just say the word, and we’ll clear out like a shot.”</p> + +<p>She laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“You are afraid,” she said, “that the young man who thinks that he is +my husband has upset me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p><p>“Madman!”</p> + +<p>“Blithering ass!”</p> + +<p>The girl looked into the two indignant faces and held out both her +hands.</p> + +<p>“You’re very nice, both of you,” she said gently. “But I’m afraid you +are going to be in a hopeless minority here as regards me.”</p> + +<p>They eyed her incredulously.</p> + +<p>“You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs +will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that.”</p> + +<p>Anna measured out the coffee. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of +humour. After all, it was really rather funny.</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “I always notice that +people find it very easy to believe what they want to believe, and you +see I’m not in the least popular. Miss Ellicot, for instance, +considers me a most improper person.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Ellicot! That old cat!” Sydney exclaimed indignantly.</p> + +<p>“Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. “As if it could possibly matter what +such a person thinks of you.”</p> + +<p>Anna laughed outright.</p> + +<p>“You are positively eloquent to-night—both of you,” she declared. +“But, you see, appearances are very much against me. He knew my name, +and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk +claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. He was painfully +in earnest, too. I think you will find that his story will be +believed, whatever I say; and in any case, if he is going to stay on +here, I shall have to go away.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t say that,” Sydney begged. “We will see that he never annoys +you.”</p> + +<p>Anna shook her head.</p> + +<p>“He is evidently a friend of Mrs. White’s,” she said, “and if he is +going to persist in this delusion, we cannot both remain here. I’d +rather not go,” she added. “This is much the cheapest place I know of +where things are moderately clean, and I should hate rooms all by +myself. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot +down upon one from the skies.”</p> + +<p>“And such a beast of a one,” Sydney remarked vigorously.</p> + +<p>Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” he said, “is there anything we could do to help you to get +rid of him?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>“Can you think of anything?” Anna answered. “I can’t! He appears to be +a most immovable person.”</p> + +<p>Brendon hesitated for a moment. He was a little embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. “The fellow +seems to know your name, Miss Pellissier, and that you have lived in +Paris. Might we ask you if you have ever seen him, if you knew him at +all before this evening?”</p> + +<p>She stood up suddenly, and turning her back to them, looked steadily +out of the window. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of +boarding-houses and apartments. The steps, even the pavements, were +invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat +of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for +evening dress in Montague Street. The sound of their strident voices +floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the +shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their +male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. A young man +was playing the banjo. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out +a <i>pot pourri</i> of popular airs. Anna raised her eyes. Above the +housetops it was different. She drew a long breath. After all, why +need one look down. Always the other things remained.</p> + +<p>“I think,” she said, “that I would rather not have anything to say +about that man.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t necessary,” they both declared breathlessly.</p> + +<p>Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. He glanced at +his watch.</p> + +<p>“Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. “I daresay the +gallery will be full, but there is always the chance, and I know you +two are keen on Melba.”</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Not to-night,” she said. “I have to go out.”</p> + +<p>They hesitated. As a rule their comings and goings were discussed with +perfect confidence, but on this occasion they both felt that there was +intent in her silence as to her destination. Nevertheless Sydney, +clumsily, but earnestly, had something to say about it.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he +said. “That beast of a fellow is certain to be hanging about.”</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“It is a secret mission,” she declared. “There are policemen—and +buses.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>“You shall not need either,” Brendon said grimly. “We will see that he +doesn’t follow you.”</p> + +<p>She thanked him with a look and rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. “I +expect it is pretty well in shreds by now. To-morrow morning I shall +have made up my mind what to do.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XV" id="Chapter_XV"></a><i>Chapter XV</i></h2> + +<h3>A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE</h3> + +<p>Anna looked about her admiringly. It was just such a bedroom as she +would have chosen for herself. The colouring was green and white, with +softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle +of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered +all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances. +Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of +luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and +followed by a maid presently appeared.</p> + +<p>“Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. “I’m really very +sorry. Collins, you can go now. I will ring if I want you.”</p> + +<p>The maid discreetly withdrew, and Anna stood transfixed, gazing with +puzzled frown at her sister.</p> + +<p>“Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” +she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed a little uneasily.</p> + +<p>“The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have +succeeded. Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever +think that we were sisters. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair +is lovely?”</p> + +<p>“There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna +answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. +And what on earth do you want to darken your eyebrows and use so much +make-up for at your age? You’re exactly twenty-three, and you’re got +up as much as a woman of forty-five.”</p> + +<p>Annabel shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I only use the weeniest little dab of rouge,” she declared, “and it +is really necessary, because I want to get rid of the ‘pallor +effect.’”</p> + +<p>Anna made no remark. Her disapproval was obvious enough. Annabel saw +it, and suddenly changed her tone.</p> + +<p>“You are very stupid, Anna,” she said. “Can you not understand? It is +of no use your taking my identity and all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>the burden of my iniquities +upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my +face in London. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have +abandoned my rôle of <i>ingenuèe</i> and altered my whole style of dress. +Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you +are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am +myself.”</p> + +<p>A sudden sense of the gravity of this thing came home to Anna. Her +sister’s words were true. They had changed identities absolutely. It +was not for a week or a month. It was for ever. A cold shiver came +over her. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in +different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. Annabel had taken +her life into her hands with gay <i>insouciance</i>, had made her own +friends, gone her own way. Anna never knew whither it had led +her—sometimes she had fears. It was her past now, not Annabel’s.</p> + +<p>“It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel +remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands +over her head. “To tell you the truth, I am a little dull.”</p> + +<p>“Where is your husband?” Anna asked.</p> + +<p>“He is addressing a meeting of his constituents somewhere,” Annabel +answered. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. Tell me how are +you amusing yourself?”</p> + +<p>Anna laughed.</p> + +<p>“I have been amusing myself up to now by trying to earn my living,” +she replied.</p> + +<p>“I hope,” Annabel answered lazily, “that you have succeeded. +By-the-bye, do you want any money? Sir John’s ideas of pin money are +not exactly princely, but I can manage what you want, I dare say.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” Anna answered coldly. “I am not in need of any. I might +add that in any case I should not touch Sir John’s.”</p> + +<p>“That’s rather a pity,” Annabel said. “He wants to settle something on +you, I believe. It is really amusing. He lives in constant dread of a +reappearance of ‘<i>La Belle Alcide</i>,’ and hearing it said that she is +his wife’s sister. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so +absurd. Tell me how you are earning your living here, +Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?”</p> + +<p>“I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>better. Is +all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” +she asked, looking round.</p> + +<p>Annabel shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Most of it is ugly and frowsy,” she declared, “but it isn’t worth +talking about. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here +into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. It is absolutely a frightful +neighbourhood, this. If only you could see the people who have been to +call on me! Sir John has the most absurd ideas, too. He won’t have +menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only +fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. I +can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently +established. The man’s as obstinate as a mule.”</p> + +<p>Anna looked at her steadily.</p> + +<p>“He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” +she said. “I do not blame him. I hope you will always remember——”</p> + +<p>Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest.</p> + +<p>“No lecturing, Anna!” she exclaimed. “I hope you have not come for +that.”</p> + +<p>“I came,” Anna answered, looking her sister steadily in the face, “to +hear all that you can tell me about a man named Hill.”</p> + +<p>Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of +graceful animal ease. At Anna’s words she seemed suddenly to stiffen. +Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. The little spot of rouge +was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to +draw the colour even from her lips. But she did not speak. She made no +attempt to answer her sister’s question. Anna looked at her curiously, +and with sinking heart.</p> + +<p>“You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. “You must tell me the +truth, please. It is necessary.”</p> + +<p>Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see +that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps.</p> + +<p>“There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is +dead.”</p> + +<p>“Then there is also,” Anna remarked, “a Montague Hill who is very much +alive. Not only that, but he is here in London. I have just come from +him.”</p> + +<p>Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion. She battled with a +deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>walked back to her +seat. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s +side and took her hand.</p> + +<p>“Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. “You must tell me the truth, +and I will see that no harm comes to you.”</p> + +<p>“The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. I +know he is dead. I saw him lying on the footway. I felt his heart. It +had ceased to beat. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident +the evening papers called it. They could not have called it a fatal +motor accident if he had not been dead.”</p> + +<p>Anna nodded.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I remember,” she said. “It was the night you left Paris. They +thought that he was dead at first, and they took him to the hospital. +I believe that his recovery was considered almost miraculous.”</p> + +<p>“Alive,” Annabel moaned, her eyes large with terror. “You say that he +is alive.”</p> + +<p>“He is certainly alive,” Anna declared. “More than that, he arrived +to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a +theatrical start, and claimed me—as his wife. That is why I am here. +You must tell me what it all means.”</p> + +<p>“And you?” Annabel exclaimed. “What did you say?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I considered myself justified in denying it,” Anna answered +drily. “He produced what he called a marriage certificate, and I +believe that nearly every one in the boarding-house, including Mrs. +White, my landlady, believes his story. I am fairly well hardened in +iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband +thrust upon me. I really cannot have anything to do with Mr. Montague +Hill.”</p> + +<p>“A—marriage certificate!” Annabel gasped.</p> + +<p>Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Let me get you some water, Annabel. Don’t be frightened, dear. +Remember——”</p> + +<p>Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. She would not let her move. She +seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear.</p> + +<p>“A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a +hoarse excited whisper. “He has a stubbly yellow moustache, weak eyes, +and great horrid hands.”</p> + +<p>Anna nodded.</p> + +<p>“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. “There is no doubt whatever +about that. There was the motor accident, too. It is the same man, for +he raved in the hospital, and they fetched me. It was you, of course, +whom he wanted.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p><p>“Alive! In London!” Annabel moaned.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth.”</p> + +<p>The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath.</p> + +<p>“You shall,” she said. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an +American railway millionaire. This man and he were alike, and about +the same age. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or +twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity. At any rate, he began to +deliberately personate him. He sent me flowers. Celeste introduced him +to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. He—wanted to +marry me. Just then—I was nervous. I had gone further than I meant +to—with some Englishmen. I was afraid of being talked about. You +don’t know, Anna, but when one is in danger one realizes that the—the +other side of the line is Hell. The man was mad to marry me. I heard +everywhere of his enormous riches and his generosity. I consented. We +went to the Embassy. There was—a service. Then he took me out to +Monteaux, on a motor. We were to have breakfast there and return in +the evening. On the way he confessed. He was a London man of business, +spending a small legacy in Paris. He had heard me sing—the fool +thought himself in love with me. Celeste he knew. She was chaffing him +about being taken for Meysey Hill, and suggested that he should be +presented to me as the millionaire. He told me with a coarse nervous +laugh. I was his wife. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. +His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. Anna, I listened to all +that he had to say, and I called to him to let me get out. He laughed. +I tried to jump, but he increased the speed. We were going at a mad +pace. I struck him across the mouth, and across the eyes. He lost +control of the machine. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. I saw +the motor dashed to pieces against the wall, and I saw him pitched on +his head into the road. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite +still. I could not hear his heart beat. I thought that he was dead. I +stole away and walked to the railway station. That night in Paris I +saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents.’ <i>Le Petit Journal</i> said that +the man was dead. I was afraid that I might be called upon as a +witness. That is why I was so anxious to leave Paris. The man who came +to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend.”</p> + +<p>“The good God!” Anna murmured, herself shaken with fear. “You were +married to him!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p><p>“It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned. “It couldn’t be. I thought +that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature. We stepped from +the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. Why +didn’t he die?”</p> + +<p>Anna sprang to her feet and walked restlessly up and down the room. +Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes.</p> + +<p>“You won’t give me away, Anna. He would never recognize me now. You +are much more like what I was then.”</p> + +<p>Anna stopped in front of her.</p> + +<p>“You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take +this man for my husband?”</p> + +<p>“You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. “Tell him that he is mad. Go +and live somewhere else.”</p> + +<p>“In his present mood,” Anna remarked, “he would follow me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are strong and brave,” Annabel murmured. “You can keep him at +arm’s length. Besides, it was under false pretences. He told me that +he was a millionaire. It could not be a legal marriage.”</p> + +<p>“I am very much afraid,” Anna answered, “that it was. It might be +upset. I am wondering whether it would not be better to tell your +husband everything. You will never be happy with this hanging over +you.”</p> + +<p>Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de +Cologne.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you +would not talk like that. He is steeped in the conventions. Every +slight action is influenced by what he imagines would be the opinion +of other people. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to +him. He has no imagination, no real generosity. You might tell the +truth to some men, but never to him.”</p> + +<p>Anna was thoughtful. A conviction that her sister’s words were true +had from the first possessed her.</p> + +<p>“Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I +trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have +said it is useless for us to play with words. You do not love your +husband, you have married him for a position—to escape from—things +which you feared. Will you be a faithful and honest wife? Will you do +your duty by him, and forget all your past follies? Unless, Annabel, +you can——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I will pledge you my word,” Annabel cried passionately, “my +solemn word. Believe me, Anna. Oh, you must believe me. I have been +very foolish, but it is over.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p><p>“Remember that you are young still, and fond of admiration,” Anna +said. “You will not give Sir John any cause for jealousy? You will +have no secrets from him except—concerning those things which are +past?”</p> + +<p>“Anna, I swear it!” her sister sobbed.</p> + +<p>“Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. “I believe that you are +quite safe. He has had brain fever since, and, as you say, I am more +like what you were then than you yourself are now. I don’t think for a +moment that he would recognize you.”</p> + +<p>Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. The tears were streaming down her +face, her voice was thick with sobs.</p> + +<p>“Anna, you are the dearest, bravest sister in the world,” she cried. +“Oh, I can’t thank you. You dear, dear girl. I—listen.”</p> + +<p>They heard a man’s voice outside.</p> + +<p>“Sir John!” Annabel gasped.</p> + +<p>Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door.</p> + +<p>“One moment, if you please!”</p> + +<p>She stopped short and looked round. Sir John stood upon the threshold.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XVI" id="Chapter_XVI"></a><i>Chapter XVI</i></h2> + +<h3>THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN</h3> + +<p>Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. His face +darkened.</p> + +<p>“My arrival appears to be opportune,” he said stiffly. “I was hoping +to be able to secure a few minutes’ conversation with you, Miss +Pellissier. Perhaps my wife has already prepared you for what I wish +to say.”</p> + +<p>“Not in the least,” Anna answered calmly. “We have scarcely mentioned +your name.”</p> + +<p>Sir John coughed. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her +hands—he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy +composure which secretly irritated him.</p> + +<p>“It is concerning—our future relations,” Sir John pronounced +ponderously.</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” Anna answered indifferently. “That sounds interesting.”</p> + +<p>Sir John frowned. Anna was unimpressed. Elegant, a little scornful, +she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him +steadily in the eyes.</p> + +<p>“I have no wish,” he said, “to altogether ignore the fact that you are +my wife’s sister, and have therefore a certain claim upon me.”</p> + +<p>Anna’s eyes opened a little wider, but she said nothing.</p> + +<p>“A claim,” he continued, “which I am quite prepared to recognize. It +will give me great pleasure to settle an annuity for a moderate amount +upon you on certain conditions.”</p> + +<p>“A—what?” Anna asked.</p> + +<p>“An annuity—a sum of money paid to you yearly or quarterly through my +solicitors, and which you can consider as a gift from your sister. The +conditions are such as I think you will recognize the justice of. I +wish to prevent a repetition of any such errand as I presume you have +come here upon this evening. I cannot have my wife distressed or +worried.”</p> + +<p>“May I ask,” Anna said softly, “what you presume to have been the +nature of my errand here this evening?”</p> + +<p>Sir John pointed to Annabel, who was as yet utterly limp.</p> + +<p>“I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>the +recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. I +should like to add that if a certain amount is needed to set you free +from any debts you may have contracted, in addition to this annuity, +you will not find me unreasonable.”</p> + +<p>Anna glanced momentarily towards her sister, but Annabel neither spoke +nor moved.</p> + +<p>“With regard to the conditions I mentioned,” Sir John continued, +gaining a little confidence from Anna’s silence, “I think you will +admit that they are not wholly unreasonable. I should require you to +accept no employment whatever upon the stage, and to remain out of +England.”</p> + +<p>Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged +by the slightest flush of colour. She regarded him coldly, as though +wondering whether he had anything further to say. Sir John hesitated, +and then continued.</p> + +<p>“I trust,” he said, “that you will recognize the justice of these +conditions. Under happier circumstances nothing would have given me +more pleasure than to have offered you a home with your sister. You +yourself, I am sure, recognize how impossible you have made it for me +now to do anything of the sort. I may say that the amount of the +annuity I propose to allow you is two hundred a year.”</p> + +<p>Anna looked for a moment steadily at her sister, whose face was still +averted. Then she moved towards the door. Before she passed out she +turned and faced Sir John. The impassivity of her features changed at +last. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered.</p> + +<p>“Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. I can +understand now these newspapers when they talk of your magnificent +philanthropy. It is magnificent indeed. And yet—you millionaires +should really, I think, cultivate the art of discrimination. I am so +much obliged to you for your projected benevolence. Frankly, it is the +funniest thing which has ever happened to me in my life. I shall like +to think of it—whenever I feel dull. Good-bye, Anna!”</p> + +<p>Annabel sprang up. Sir John waved her back.</p> + +<p>“Do I understand you then to refuse my offer?” he asked Anna.</p> + +<p>She shot a sudden glance at him. Sir John felt hot and furious. It was +maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of +this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment +to scintillate with scorn. There were one or two bitter moments in his +life when he had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>been made to feel that gentility laid on with a +brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and +breeding are after all things apart. Anna went out.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, +although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming +to herself fragments of an old French song. And then at the street +corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison.</p> + +<p>“I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. The fates are +never so kind to me. As a matter of fact I have been waiting for you.”</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>“Really,” she said. “And by what right do you do anything of the +sort?”</p> + +<p>“No right at all,” he admitted. “Only it is much too late for you to +be out alone. You have been to see your sister, of course. How is +she?”</p> + +<p>“My sister is quite well, thank you,” she answered. “Would you mind +calling that hansom for me?”</p> + +<p>He looked at it critically and shook his head.</p> + +<p>“You really couldn’t ride in it,” he said, deprecatingly. “The horse’s +knees are broken, and I am not sure that the man is sober. I would +sooner see you in a ’bus again.”</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say that you have been here ever since I came?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that I must confess it,” he answered. “Idiotic, isn’t +it?”</p> + +<p>“Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. “I wish you would not do it.”</p> + +<p>“Would not do what?”</p> + +<p>“Well, follow buses from Russell Square to Hampstead.”</p> + +<p>“I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. But +seriously——”</p> + +<p>“Well seriously?”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your +address, and allow me to call upon you.”</p> + +<p>“Why should I? I have told you that I do not wish for acquaintances in +London.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not in a general way,” he answered calmly. “You <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>are quite +right, I think. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. I am an old +friend, and I declined to be shelved.”</p> + +<p>“Would you mind telling me,” Anna asked, “how long I knew you in +Paris?”</p> + +<p>He looked at her sideways. There was nothing to be learned from her +face.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s +dinner.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Drummond’s dinner!” she repeated. “You were there, were you?”</p> + +<p>He laughed a little impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t that rather a strange question—under the circumstances?” he +asked quietly.</p> + +<p>Her cheeks flushed a dull red. She felt that there was a hidden +meaning under his words. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing +thing. She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the +shoulders.</p> + +<p>“We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. “It was +perhaps my fault. You have not forgotten——”</p> + +<p>“I have forgotten nothing?” he answered, enigmatically.</p> + +<p>Anna hailed a bus. He looked at her reproachfully. The bus however was +full. They fell into step again. More than ever a sense of confusion +was upon Ennison.</p> + +<p>“Last time I saw you,” he reminded her, “you spoke, did you not, of +obtaining some employment in London.”</p> + +<p>“Quite true,” she answered briskly, “and thanks to you I have +succeeded.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”</p> + +<p>“No? But it is very simple. It was you who were so much amazed that I +did not try—the music hall stage here.”</p> + +<p>“You must admit,” he declared, “that to us—who had seen you—the +thought of your trying anything else was amazing.”</p> + +<p>“At any rate,” she declared, “your remarks decided me. I have an +engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’.”</p> + +<p>“You are going to sing in London?” he said quietly.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>For a moment or two he did not speak. Glancing towards him she saw +that a shadow had fallen upon his face.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. You are afraid—that +here in London—I shall not be a success. It is that, is it not?”</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> +<p>“No,” he answered readily. “It is not that. The idea of your being a +failure would never have occurred to me.”</p> + +<p>“Then why are you sorry that I am going to the ‘Unusual’? I do not +understand.”</p> + +<p>Their eyes met for a moment. His face was very serious.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry,” he said slowly. “Why, I do not know.”</p> + +<p>“I positively insist upon knowing,” she declared cheerfully. “The +sooner you tell me the better.”</p> + +<p>“It is very hard to explain,” he answered. “I think that it is only an +idea. Only you seem to me since the time when I knew you in Paris to +have changed—to have changed in some subtle manner which I find at +times utterly bewildering. I find you an impenetrable enigma. I find +it impossible to associate you with—my little friend of the +‘Ambassador’s.’ The things she said and did from you—seem impossible. I +had a sort of idea,” he went on, “that you were starting life all over +again, and it seemed awfully plucky.”</p> + +<p>There was a long silence. Then Anna spoke more seriously than usual.</p> + +<p>“I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. Don’t be +afraid to go on thinking it. Even though I am going to sing at the +‘Unusual’ you may find that the ‘Alcide,’ whom you knew in Paris does +not exist any more. At the same time,” she added, in a suddenly +altered tone, “it isn’t anything whatever to do with you, is it?”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” he answered. “You permitted me then to call you my friend. +I do not intend to allow you to forget.”</p> + +<p>They passed a man who stared at them curiously. Ennison started and +looked anxiously at Anna. She was quite unconcerned.</p> + +<p>“Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone.</p> + +<p>“I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. “I supposed that he took off +his hat to you.”</p> + +<p>“It was Cheveney!” he said slowly.</p> + +<p>“Cheveney!” she repeated. “I do not know any one of that name.”</p> + +<p>He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him. Her eyes were +wide open with amazement.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ennison!”</p> + +<p>He released her.</p> + +<p>“Good God!” he exclaimed. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her +ghost?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p><p>Anna laughed.</p> + +<p>“If it is a choice between the two,” she answered, “I must be Annabel +Pellissier. I am certainly no ghost.”</p> + +<p>“You have her face and figure,” he muttered. “You have even her name. +Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know +him. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear +different clothes, you have the air of another world. If you do not +help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very +soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum.”</p> + +<p>She laughed heartily, and became as suddenly grave.</p> + +<p>“So Mr. Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. “If any one +should know——you should! He was your friend. We were only—<i>les +autres</i>.”</p> + +<p>“That is quite untrue,” she declared cheerfully. “I certainly knew him +no better than you.”</p> + +<p>“Then he—and Paris—lied,” Ennison answered.</p> + +<p>“That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. You are too +credulous.”</p> + +<p>Ennison had things to say, but he looked at her and held his tongue. +They turned the last corner, and almost immediately a man who had been +standing there turned and struck Ennison a violent blow on the cheek. +Ennison reeled, and almost fell. Recovering himself quickly his +instinct of self-defence was quicker than his recollection of Anna’s +presence. He struck out from the shoulder, and the man measured his +length upon the pavement.</p> + +<p>Anna sprang lightly away across the street. Brendon and Courtlaw who +had been watching for her, met her at the door. She pointed across the +road.</p> + +<p>“Please go and see that—nothing happens,” she pleaded.</p> + +<p>“It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight,” Brendon +exclaimed, as he hastened across the street.</p> + +<p>Hill sat up on the pavement and mopped the blood from his cheek. +Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone.</p> + +<p>“What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison +exclaimed, glowering down upon him. “Serves you right if I’d cracked +your skull.”</p> + +<p>Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken +collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> +<p>“What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?” he answered fiercely.</p> + +<p>Ennison looked down on him in disgust.</p> + +<p>“You silly fool,” he said. “I know nothing about your wife. The young +lady I was with is not married at all. Why don’t you make sure before +you rush out like that upon a stranger?”</p> + +<p>“You were with my wife,” Hill repeated sullenly. “I suppose you’re +like the rest of them. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s +my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know who you are,” Ennison said quietly, “but you are a +thundering liar.”</p> + +<p>Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket.</p> + +<p>“Marriage certificates don’t tell lies, at any rate,” he said. “Just +look that through, will you.”</p> + +<p>Ennison took the document, tore it half in two without looking at it, +and flung it back in Hill’s face. Then he turned on his heel and +walked off.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XVII" id="Chapter_XVII"></a><i>Chapter XVII</i></h2> + +<h3>THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE”</h3> + +<p>“By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?”</p> + +<p>“Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, +“unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong +house.”</p> + +<p>“How dull you are,” the lady remarked. “Of course I mean, who was +she?”</p> + +<p>“I believe that her name was Pellissier,” Ennison answered.</p> + +<p>“Pellissier,” she repeated thoughtfully. “There were some Hampshire +Pellissiers.”</p> + +<p>“She is one of them,” Ennison said.</p> + +<p>“Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up.”</p> + +<p>“In Paris, I think,” Ennison answered. “Only married a few months ago +and lived out at Hampstead.”</p> + +<p>“Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. “I heard they came from somewhere +outrageous.”</p> + +<p>“Hampstead didn’t suit Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison remarked. “They have +just taken this house from Lady Cellender.”</p> + +<p>“And what are you doing here?” the lady asked.</p> + +<p>“Politics!” Ennison answered grimly. “And you?”</p> + +<p>“Same thing. Besides, my husband has shares in Sir John’s company. Do +you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the +tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. Our land brings us in +nothing. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their +business, and in return we ask them to—dinner. By-the-bye, have you +seen this new woman at the ‘Empire’? What is it they call her—‘Alcide?’”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have seen her,” Ennison answered.</p> + +<p>“Every one raves about her,” Lady Angela continued. “For my part I can +see no difference in any of these French girls who come over here with +their demure manner and atrocious songs.”</p> + +<p>“Alcide’s songs are not atrocious,” Ennison remarked.</p> + +<p>Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“It is unimportant,” she said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> “Nobody understands them, of course, +but we all look as though we did. Something about this woman rather +reminds me of our hostess.”</p> + +<p>Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from +one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel. +Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her +head, the play of her eyes startled him. Then he remembered that she +was Anna’s sister.</p> + +<p>He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her.</p> + +<p>“By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very +great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you +of me.”</p> + +<p>The change in Lady Ferringhall’s manner was subtle but unmistakable. +She answered him almost coldly.</p> + +<p>“I see nothing of my sister,” she said. “In Paris our lives were far +apart, and we had seldom the same friends. I have heard of you from my +husband. You are somebody’s secretary, are you not?”</p> + +<p>It was plain that the subject was distasteful to her, but Ennison, +although famous in a small way for his social tact, did not at once +discard it.</p> + +<p>“You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. “I believe that +you would find her in some respects curiously altered. I have never in +my life been so much puzzled by any one as by your sister. Something +has changed her tremendously.”</p> + +<p>Annabel looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean in looks?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Not only that,” he answered. “In Paris your sister appeared to me to +be a charming student of frivolity. Here she seems to have developed +into a brilliant woman with more character and steadfastness than I +should ever have given her credit for. Her features are the same, yet +the change has written its mark into her face. Do you know, Lady +Ferringhall, I am proud that your sister permits me to call myself her +friend.”</p> + +<p>“And in Paris——”</p> + +<p>“In Paris,” he interrupted, “she was a very delightful companion, but +beyond that—one did not take her seriously. I am not boring you, am +I?”</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face.</p> + +<p>“You are not boring me,” she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> “but I would rather talk of +something else. I suppose you will think me very unsisterly and +cold-hearted, but there are circumstances in connexion with my +sister’s latest exploit which are intensely irritating both to my +husband and to myself.”</p> + +<p>He recognized the force, almost the passion, which trembled in her +tone, and he at once abandoned the subject. He remained talking with +her however. It was easy for him to see that she desired to be +agreeable to him. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir +John approached them with a slight frown upon his face.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ennison,” he said, “it is for you to cut in at Lady Angela’s +table. Anna, do you not see that the Countess is sitting alone?”</p> + +<p>She rose, and flashed a quick smile upon Ennison behind her husband’s +back.</p> + +<p>“You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him.</p> + +<p>He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played +with less than his accustomed skill. On the way home he was still +thoughtful. He turned in at the club. They were talking of “Alcide,” +as they often did in those days.</p> + +<p>“She has improved her style,” someone declared. “Certainly her voice +is far more musical.”</p> + +<p>Another differed.</p> + +<p>“She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the +men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s.’ I don’t know what +you’d call it—a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. She sings +better perhaps. But I don’t think she lays hold of one so.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you what there is about her which is so fetching,” +Drummond, who was lounging by, declared. “She contrives somehow to +strike the personal note in an amazing manner. You are wedged in +amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you +are almost out of sight. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to +escape from it. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for +you, the whole song is for you. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse +when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself.”</p> + +<p>“And if you are a millionaire like Drummond,” someone remarked, “you +send round a note and ask her to come out to supper.”</p> + +<p>“In the present case,” Drummond remarked, glancing across the room, +“Cheveney wouldn’t permit it.”</p> + +<p>Ennison dropped the evening paper which he had been pretending to +read. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> +<p>“Cheveney wouldn’t have anything to say about it, as it happens,” he +remarked, a little grimly. “Ungracious little beast, I call her. I +don’t mind telling you chaps that except on the stage I haven’t set +eyes on her this side of the water. I’ve called half a dozen times at +her flat, and she won’t see me. Rank ingratitude, I call it.”</p> + +<p>There was a shout of laughter. Drummond patted him on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, old chap,” he declared. “Let’s hope your successor is +worthy of you.”</p> + +<p>“You fellows,” Ennison said quietly, “are getting a little wild. I +have known Miss Pellissier as long as any of you perhaps, and I have +seen something of her since her arrival in London. I consider her a +very charming young woman—and I won’t hear a word about Paris, for +there are things I don’t understand about that, but I will stake my +word upon it that to-day Miss Pellissier is entitled not only to our +admiration, but to our respect. I firmly believe that she is as +straight as a die.”</p> + +<p>Ennison’s voice shook a little. They were his friends, and they +recognized his unusual earnestness. Drummond, who had been about to +speak, refrained. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any +rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair. “You see, +her sister is married to Ferringhall, isn’t she? and she herself must +be drawing no end of a good screw here. I always say that it’s poverty +before everything that makes a girl skip the line.”</p> + +<p>Ennison escaped. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool +of himself. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. +On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and +paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. It was +nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. +Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. A man came out, and +walking recklessly, almost cannoned into Ennison. He mumbled an +apology and then stopped short.</p> + +<p>“It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. “What the devil are you doing +star-gazing here?”</p> + +<p>Ennison looked at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>“I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why +the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p><p>Courtlaw was pale and dishevelled. He was carelessly dressed, and +there were marks of unrest upon his features. He pointed to where the +lights still burned in Anna’s windows.</p> + +<p>“What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. “You are one +of those who must know all about it. Was there ever such madness?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that I don’t understand,” Ennison answered. “You seem to +have come from Miss Pellissier’s rooms. I had no idea even that she +was a friend of yours.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw laughed hardly. His eyes were red. He was in a curious state +of desperation.</p> + +<p>“Nor am I now,” he answered. “I have spoken too many truths to-night. +Why do women take to lies and deceit and trickery as naturally as a +duck to water?”</p> + +<p>“You are not alluding, I hope, to Miss Pellissier?” Ennison said +stiffly.</p> + +<p>“Why not? Isn’t the whole thing a lie? Isn’t her reputation, this +husband of hers, the ‘Alcide’ business, isn’t it all a cursed juggle? +She hasn’t the right to do it. I——”</p> + +<p>He stopped short. He had the air of a man who has said too much. +Ennison was deeply interested.</p> + +<p>“I should like to understand you,” he said. “I knew Miss Pellissier in +Paris at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ and I know her now, but I am convinced +that there is some mystery in connexion with her change of life. She +is curiously altered in many ways. Is there any truth, do you suppose, +in this rumoured marriage?”</p> + +<p>“I know nothing,” Courtlaw answered hurriedly. “Ask me nothing. I will +not talk to you about Miss Pellissier or her affairs.”</p> + +<p>“You are not yourself to-night, Courtlaw,” Ennison said. “Come to my +rooms and have a drink.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw refused brusquely, almost rudely.</p> + +<p>“I am off to-night,” he said. “I am going to America. I have work +there. I ought to have gone long ago. Will you answer me a question +first?”</p> + +<p>“If I can,” Ennison said.</p> + +<p>“What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were +looking at her windows. Why? What is she to you?”</p> + +<p>“I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. “Miss Pellissier is +nothing to me except a young lady for whom I have the most profound +and respectful admiration.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw laid his hand upon Ennison’s shoulder. They <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>were at the +corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill.</p> + +<p>“Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. “Call it warning, if you like. +Admire her as much as you choose—at a distance. No more. Look at me. +You knew me in Paris. David Courtlaw. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? +You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one +now, and it’s her fault. I’ve loved her for two years, I love her now. +And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the +Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it.”</p> + +<p>He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. Ennison stood still +for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. Then he turned +round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where +Courtlaw had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“I’m d——d if I understand this,” he said thoughtfully. “I never saw +Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. He was going to tell +me something—and he shut up. I wonder what it was.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XVIII" id="Chapter_XVIII"></a><i>Chapter XVIII</i></h2> + +<h3>ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE”</h3> + +<p>Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in +them was obviously meant for him alone. She continued to fan herself.</p> + +<p>“You are late,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu +dinner party. He brought home a few waverers to talk to them where +they had no chance of getting away.”</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>“I am bored,” she said abruptly. “This is a very foolish sort of +entertainment. And, as usual,” she continued, a little bitterly, “I +seem to have been sent along with the dullest and least edifying of +Mrs. Montressor’s guests.”</p> + +<p>Ennison glanced at the other people in the box and smiled.</p> + +<p>“I got your note just in time,” he remarked. “I knew of course that +you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music +hall party afterwards. Are you all here?”</p> + +<p>“Five boxes full,” she answered. “Some of them seem to be having an +awfully good time too. Did you see Lord Delafield and Miss Anderson? +They packed me in with Colonel Anson and Mrs. Hitchings, who seem to +be absolutely engrossed in one another, and a boy of about seventeen, +who no sooner got here than he discovered that he wanted to see a man +in the promenade and disappeared.”</p> + +<p>Ennison at once seated himself.</p> + +<p>“I feel justified then,” he said, “in annexing his chair. I expect you +had been snubbing him terribly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice +about it. I wonder how it is,” she added, “that boys always make love +so impertinently.”</p> + +<p>Ennison laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or +timorously or sentimentally.”</p> + +<p>“Are you master of all three methods?” she asked, stopping her fanning +for a moment to look at him.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> +<p>“Indeed, no,” he answered. “Mine is a primitive and unstudied manner. +It needs cultivating, I think.”</p> + +<p>His fingers touched hers for a moment under the ledge of the box.</p> + +<p>“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. “I detest amateurs.”</p> + +<p>“I will buy books and a lay figure,” he declared, “to practise upon. +Or shall I ask Colonel Anson for a few hints?”</p> + +<p>“For Heaven’s sake no,” she declared. “I would rather put up with your +own efforts, however clumsy. Love-making at first hand is dull enough. +At second hand it would be unendurable.”</p> + +<p>He leaned towards her.</p> + +<p>“Is that a challenge?”</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders, all ablaze with jewels.</p> + +<p>“Why not? It might amuse me.”</p> + +<p>Somewhat irrelevantly he glanced at the next few boxes where the rest +of Mrs. Montressor’s guests were.</p> + +<p>“Is your husband here to-night?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. “No, he wouldn’t come +here of all places—just now. He dined, and then pleaded a political +engagement. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t.”</p> + +<p>“You know,” he said with some hesitation, “that your sister is +singing.”</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>“Of course. I want to hear how she does it.”</p> + +<p>“She does it magnificently,” he declared. “I think—we all think that +she is wonderful.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him with curious eyes.</p> + +<p>“I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of +my sister as your friend. Have you seen much of her lately?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing at all,” he answered.</p> + +<p>The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently +backwards and forwards. She was watching him intently.</p> + +<p>“Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you +look. I too can see it. What has been the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Toothache,” he answered laconically.</p> + +<p>She looked away.</p> + +<p>“You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic +reason.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. I might have +told you the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Has my sister been unkind to you?”</p> + +<p>“The family,” he declared, “has not treated me with consideration.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly. “I loathe +afternoon concerts, and——”</p> + +<p>She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by +the soft brilliancy of her smile. Her fingers rested upon his.</p> + +<p>“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. “I am so +sorry. I had a perfect shoal of callers. People who would not go. I +only arrived when everybody was coming away.”</p> + +<p>A little murmur of expectation, an audible silence announced the +coming of “Alcide.” Then a burst of applause. She was standing there, +smiling at the audience as at her friends. From the first there had +always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy +which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. Then she +sang.</p> + +<p>Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. Lady Ferringhall listened, and +her cheeks grew pale. Her whole face stiffened with suppressed anger. +She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the +burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. She was +fiercely and bitterly jealous. Anna was singing as she used to sing. +She was <i>chic</i>, distinguished, unusual. What right had she to call +herself “Alcide”? It was abominable, an imposture. Ennison listened, +and he forgot where he was. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at +love-making, all the <i>cul-de-sac</i> gallantry of the moment. The +cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little +world fell away from him. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes +of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him +with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there +through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and +seductive music from her lips.</p> + +<p>Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit. +They were both conscious, however, that something had intervened +between them. Their conversation became stilted. A spot of colour, +brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> +<p>“She is marvellously clever,” he said.</p> + +<p>“She appears to be very popular here,” she remarked.</p> + +<p>“You too sing?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I have given it up,” she answered. “One genius in the family is +enough.” After a pause, she added, “Do you mind fetching back my +recalcitrant cavalier.”</p> + +<p>“Anything except that,” he murmured. “I was half hoping that I might +be allowed to see you home.”</p> + +<p>“If you can tear yourself away from this delightful place in five +minutes,” she answered, “I think I can get rid of the others.”</p> + +<p>“We will do it,” he declared. “If only Sir John were not Sir John I +would ask you to come and have some supper.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t imperil my reputation before I am established,” she answered, +smiling. “Afterwards it seems to me that there are no limits to what +one may not do amongst one’s own set.”</p> + +<p>“I am frightened of Sir John,” he said, “but I suggest that we risk +it.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak +together. “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will. That +is quite as far as I mean to tempt Providence to-night.”</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Again on his way homeward from Cavendish Square he abandoned the +direct route to pass by the door of Anna’s flat. Impassive by nature +and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of +excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of +disappointment. Her sister had told him that it was true. Anna was +married. After all, she was a consummate actress. Her recent attitude +towards him was undoubtedly a pose. His long struggle with himself, +his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. There was no longer any +risk in association with her. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his +feet fell lightly upon the pavement. He slackened his pace as he +reached the flat. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not +home yet. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. He laughed once or +twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. He felt like a +boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the +whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and +passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an +adventurer upon the threshold.</p> + +<p>Then a hansom drove up, and his heart gave a great leap. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>She stepped +on to the pavement almost before him, and his blood turned almost to +ice as he saw that she was not alone. A young man turned to pay the +cabman. Then she saw him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?”</p> + +<p>There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner. She held out her +hand frankly. She seemed honestly glad to see him.</p> + +<p>“How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my +doorstep!” she remarked gaily. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in +and have some coffee?”</p> + +<p>He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. He saw now that it +was merely a boy.</p> + +<p>“This is Mr. Sydney Courtlaw—Mr. Ennison,” she said. “You are coming +in, aren’t you, Sydney?”</p> + +<p>“If I may,” he answered. “Your coffee’s too good to refuse.”</p> + +<p>She led the way, talking all the time to Ennison.</p> + +<p>“Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. +“I had those beautiful roses from you on my first night, and a tiny +little note but no address. I did not even know where to write and +thank you.”</p> + +<p>“I have been abroad,” he said. “The life of a private secretary is +positively one of slavery. I had to go at a moment’s notice.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad that you have a reasonable excuse for not having been to +see me,” she said good-humouredly. “Please make yourselves comfortable +while I see to the coffee.”</p> + +<p>It was a tiny little room, daintily furnished, individual in its +quaint colouring, and the masses of perfumed flowers set in strange +and unexpected places. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from +a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. A jar +of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of +colour from the sombre curtains behind. Anna, who had thrown aside her +sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. +He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the +play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. A +woman indeed this to love and be loved, beautiful, graceful, gay. A +dreamy sense of content crept over him. The ambitions of his life, and +they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some +outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. A +little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. There were +cakes and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be +remembered. They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with +a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air.</p> + +<p>Ennison stood by her side. They looked out over the city, grim and +silent now, for it was long past midnight. For a moment her thoughts +led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together +before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir +John had made so many changes in her life. She was silent, the ghost +of a fading smile passed from her lips. She had made her way since +then a little further into the heart of life. Yet even now there were +so many things untouched, so much to be learned. To-night she had a +curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. The +great untrodden world was before her still, into which no one can pass +alone. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation +crept over her. Sorrows and danger and disappointment she had known. +Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. She glanced into her +companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. For a moment her +heart seemed to stop beating. Then she dropped the curtain and stepped +back into the room. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood +upon the piano.</p> + +<p>“I am sure,” she said, “that you mean to stay until you are turned +out. Do you see the time?”</p> + +<p>“I may come and see you?” Ennison asked, as his hand touched hers.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she answered, looking away. “Some afternoon.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XIX" id="Chapter_XIX"></a><i>Chapter XIX</i></h2> + +<h3>“THIS IS NOT THE END”</h3> + +<p>“I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, +and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day.”</p> + +<p>“I met you accidentally,” he reminded her. “Our ways happened to lie +together.”</p> + +<p>“And our destinations also, it seems,” she added, smiling.</p> + +<p>“You asked me in to tea,” he protested.</p> + +<p>“In self-defence I had to,” she answered. “It is a delightful day for +walking, but a great deal too cold to be standing on the pavement.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, +“I could go away even now. Your reputation for hospitality would +remain under a cloud though, for tea was distinctly mentioned.”</p> + +<p>“Then you had better ring the bell,” she declared, laughing. “The walk +has given me an appetite, and I do not feel like waiting till five +o’clock. I wonder why on earth the curtains are drawn. It is quite +light yet, and I want to have one more look at that angry red sun. +Would you mind drawing them back?”</p> + +<p>Ennison sprang up, but he never reached the curtains. They were +suddenly thrown aside, and a man stepped out from his hiding-place. A +little exclamation of surprise escaped Ennison. Anna sprang to her +feet with a startled cry.</p> + +<p>“You!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to +my rooms!”</p> + +<p>The man stepped into the middle of the room. The last few months had +not dealt kindly with Mr. Montague Hill. He was still flashily +dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, +but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. His +cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. He had the appearance of a +man who has known no rest for many nights. His voice when he spoke was +almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness.</p> + +<p>“Why not?” he exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> “I have the right to be here. I hid because +there was no other way of seeing you. I did not reckon upon—him.”</p> + +<p>He pointed to Ennison, who in his turn looked across at Anna.</p> + +<p>“You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone.</p> + +<p>“I would not have you go for anything,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless,” Hill said doggedly, “I am here to speak to you alone.”</p> + +<p>“If you do not leave the room at once,” Anna answered calmly, “I shall +ring the bell for a policeman.”</p> + +<p>He raised his hand, and they saw that he was holding a small revolver.</p> + +<p>“You need not be alarmed,” he said. “I do not wish to use this. I came +here peaceably, and I only ask for a few words with you. But I mean to +have them. No, you don’t!”</p> + +<p>Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked +suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver.</p> + +<p>“If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with +you. This lady is my wife, and I have a right to be here. I have the +right also to throw you out.”</p> + +<p>Ennison obeyed Anna’s gesture, and was silent.</p> + +<p>“You can say what you have to say before Mr. Ennison, if at all,” Anna +declared calmly. “In any case, I decline to see you alone.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” the man answered. “I have come to tell you this. You are +my wife, and I am determined to claim you. We were properly married, +and the certificate is at my lawyer’s. I am not a madman, or a pauper, +or even an unreasonable person. I know that you were disappointed +because I did not turn out to be the millionaire. Perhaps I deceived +you about it. However, that’s over and done with. I’ll make any +reasonable arrangement you like. I don’t want to stop your singing. +You can live just about how you like. But you belong to me—and I want +you.”</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment, and then suddenly continued. His voice had +broken. He spoke in quick nervous sentences.</p> + +<p>“You did your best to kill me,” he said. “You might have given me a +chance, anyway. I’m not such a bad sort. You know—I worship you. I +have done from the first moment I saw you. I can’t rest or work or +settle down to anything while things are like this between you and me. +I want you. I’ve got to have you, and by God I will.”</p> + +<p>He took a quick step forward. Anna held out her hand, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>and he paused. +There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of +her features.</p> + +<p>“Listen,” she said. “I have heard these things from you before, and +you have had my answer. Understand once and for all that that answer +is final. I do not admit the truth of a word which you have said. I +will not be persecuted in this way by you.”</p> + +<p>“You do not deny that you are my wife,” he asked hoarsely. “You +cannot! Oh, you cannot.”</p> + +<p>“I have denied it,” she answered. “Why will you not be sensible? Go +back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris +and this absurd delusion of yours.”</p> + +<p>“Delusion!” he muttered, glaring at her. “Delusion!”</p> + +<p>“You can call it what you like,” she said. “In any case you will never +receive any different sort of answer from me. Stay where you are, Mr. +Ennison.”</p> + +<p>With a swift movement she gained the bell and rang it. The man’s hand +flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain +broke from his lips. The pistol fell to the floor. Ennison kicked it +away with his foot.</p> + +<p>“I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers +the bell—unless you choose to go before.”</p> + +<p>The man made no attempt to recover the revolver. He walked unsteadily +towards the door.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” he said, “I will go. But,” and he faced them both with a +still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!”</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. It was Ennison +who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued.</p> + +<p>“You are absurd,” she declared. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, +but it is over—and my toasted scones are delicious. Do have another.”</p> + +<p>“It is over for now,” he answered, “but I cannot bear to think that +you are subject to this sort of thing.”</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders slightly. Some of the delicate colour which +the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned.</p> + +<p>“It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy.”</p> + +<p>“It might become one,” he answered. “The man is dangerous.”</p> + +<p>She looked thoughtfully into the fire.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>“I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these +rooms. If so I shall have to leave.”</p> + +<p>“You cannot play at hide-and-seek with this creature all your life,” +he answered. “Let your friends act for you. There must be ways of +getting rid of him.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid,” she murmured, “that it would be difficult. He really +deserves a better fate, does he not? He is so beautifully persistent.”</p> + +<p>He drew a little nearer to her. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the +dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted +face. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at +once to look at him. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than +usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be +a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. Nevertheless she +withdrew her hand.</p> + +<p>“Let me help you,” he begged. “Indeed, you could have no more faithful +friend, you could find no one more anxious to serve you.”</p> + +<p>Her hand fell back into her lap. He touched it again, and this time it +was not withdrawn.</p> + +<p>“That is very nice of you,” she said. “But it is so difficult——”</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” he answered eagerly. “I wish you would come and see my +lawyers. Of course I know nothing of what really did happen in +Paris—if even you ever saw him there. You need not tell me, but a +lawyer is different. His client’s story is safe with him. He would +advise you how to get rid of the fellow.”</p> + +<p>“I will think of it,” she promised.</p> + +<p>“You must do more than think of it,” he urged. “It is intolerable that +you should be followed about by such a creature. I am sure that he can +be got rid of.”</p> + +<p>She turned and looked at him. Her face scarcely reflected his +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>“It may be more difficult than you think,” she said. “You see you do +not know how much of truth there is in his story.”</p> + +<p>“If it were all true,” he said doggedly, “it may still be possible.”</p> + +<p>“I will think of it,” she repeated. “I cannot say more.”</p> + +<p>They talked for a while in somewhat dreamy fashion, Anna especially +being more silent than usual. At last she glanced at a little clock in +the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> “It is incredible. I +shall barely be in time for the theatre. I must go and dress at once.”</p> + +<p>He too rose.</p> + +<p>“I will wait for you on the pavement, if you like,” he said, “but I am +going to the ‘Unusual’ with you. Your maid would not be of the least +protection.”</p> + +<p>“But your dinner!” she protested. “You will be so late.”</p> + +<p>He laughed.</p> + +<p>“You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I +care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not.”</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>“Well, you certainly did very well at tea,” she remarked. “If you +really are going to wait, make yourself as comfortable as you can. +There are cigarettes and magazines in the corner there.”</p> + +<p>Anna disappeared, but Ennison did not trouble either the cigarettes or +the magazines. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of +the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire.</p> + +<p>People spoke of him everywhere as a young man of great promise, a +politician by instinct, a keen and careful judge of character. Yet he +was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. He was absolutely unable to +focus his ideas. The girl who had just left the room was as great a +mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in +Piccadilly and taken her to tea. And behind—there was Paris, memories +of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart +beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. For the first time a +definite doubt possessed him. A woman cannot change her soul. Then it +was the woman herself who was changed. Anna was not “Alcide” of the +“Ambassador’s,” whose subtly demure smile and piquant glances had +called him to her side from the moment of their first meeting. It was +impossible.</p> + +<p>She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with +common-sense, his own apprehension. He rose at once to his feet and +turned a white face upon her.</p> + +<p>“I am going to break a covenant,” he cried. “I cannot keep silence any +longer.”</p> + +<p>“You are going to speak to me of things which happened before we met +in London?” she asked quietly.</p> + +<p>“Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. I must!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p><p>She threw open the door and pointed to it.</p> + +<p>“My word holds,” she said. “If you speak—farewell.”</p> + +<p>He stood quite silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon her face. +Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him. He was suddenly +calm.</p> + +<p>“I shall not speak,” he said, “now or at any other time. Come!”</p> + +<p>They went out together and he called a hansom. From the opposite +corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood +and glowered at them.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XX" id="Chapter_XX"></a><i>Chapter XX</i></h2> + +<h3>ANNA’S SURRENDER</h3> + +<p>“This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and +watching for a moment the golden bubbles. “Was it really only this +afternoon that I met you in St. James’ Park?”</p> + +<p>Anna nodded, and made a careful selection from a dish of quails.</p> + +<p>“It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked. “I have had +nothing since, and it seems a very long time.”</p> + +<p>“An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all +sentiment.”</p> + +<p>“Not in the least,” she assured him. “I find the two inseparable.”</p> + +<p>He sighed.</p> + +<p>“I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a +topsy-turvy view of life. It arises, I think, from an over developed +sense of humour. You would find things to laugh at even in Artemus +Ward.”</p> + +<p>“You do not understand me at all,” she declared. “I think that you are +very dense. Besides, your remark is not in the least complimentary. I +have always understood that men avoid like the plague a woman with a +sense of humour.”</p> + +<p>So they talked on whilst supper was served, falling easily into the +spirit of the place, and yet both of them conscious of some new thing +underlying the gaiety of their tongues and manner. Anna, in her +strange striking way, was radiantly beautiful. Without a single +ornament about her neck, or hair, wearing the plainest of black gowns, +out of which her shoulders shone gleaming white, she was easily the +most noticeable and the most distinguished-looking woman in the room. +To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper +quality in her tone. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of +spirits almost hysterical. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. +Perhaps she had found this new thing in life, the thing wonderful. The +terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen +from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a +shudder even from the memory. An <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>acute sense of living was in her +veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. Ennison too, always +handsome and <i>debonnair</i>, seemed transported out of his calm self. His +tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. He said daring +things with a grace which made them irresistible, his eyes flashed +back upon her some eloquent but silent appreciation of the change in +her manner towards him.</p> + +<p>And then there came for both of them at least a temporary awakening. +It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a +wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, +disapproving, bringing up the rear. He bent over to Anna at once.</p> + +<p>“It is your sister and her husband,” he said. “They are coming past +our table.”</p> + +<p>Annabel saw Ennison first, and noticing his single companion calmly +ignored him. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her +flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress +down the room. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. His face +clouded with anger.</p> + +<p>It was after all a momentary affair. Annabel passed on with a strained +nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy +displeasure. They vanished through the doorway. Anna and her escort +exchanged glances. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>“How do you feel?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Limp,” he answered. “As a matter of fact, I deserve to. I was engaged +to dine with your sister and her husband, and I sent a wire.”</p> + +<p>“It was exceedingly wrong of you,” Anna declared. “Before I came to +England I was told that there were two things which an Englishman who +was <i>comme-il-faut</i> never did. The first was to break a dinner +engagement.”</p> + +<p>“And the second?”</p> + +<p>“Make love to a single woman.”</p> + +<p>“Your knowledge of our ways,” he murmured “is profound. Yet, I suppose +that at the present moment I am the most envied man in the room.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes were lit with humour. To have spoken lightly on such a +subject a few hours ago would have seemed incredible.</p> + +<p>“But you do not know,” she whispered, “whether I am a married woman or +not. There is Mr. Montague Hill.”</p> + +<p>The lights were lowered, and an attentive waiter hovered round Anna’s +cloak. They left the room amongst the last, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>and Ennison had almost to +elbow his way through a group of acquaintances who had all some +pretext for detaining him, to which he absolutely refused to listen. +They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. The two great +hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. On their left the +river, with its gloomy pile of buildings on the opposite side, and a +huge revolving advertisement throwing its strange reflection upon the +black water. A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. Anna leaned back +with half closed eyes.</p> + +<p>“Delicious!” she murmured.</p> + +<p>His fingers closed upon her hand. She yielded it without protest, as +though unconsciously. Not a word passed between them. It seemed to him +that speech would be an anticlimax.</p> + +<p>He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. She passed inside and +upstairs without a word. In her little sitting-room she turned on the +electric light and looked around half fearfully.</p> + +<p>“Please search everywhere,” she said. “I am going through the other +rooms. I shall not let you go till I am quite sure.”</p> + +<p>“If he has a key,” Ennison said, “how are you to be safe?”</p> + +<p>“I had bolts fitted on the doors yesterday,” she answered. “If he is +not here now I can make myself safe.”</p> + +<p>It was certain that he was not there. Anna came back into the +sitting-room with a little sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>“Indeed,” she said, “it was very fortunate that I should have met you +this afternoon. Either Sydney or Mr. Brendon always comes home with +me, and to-night both are away. Mary is very good, but she is too +nervous to be the slightest protection.”</p> + +<p>“I am very glad,” he answered, in a low tone. “It has been a +delightful evening for me.”</p> + +<p>“And for me,” Anna echoed.</p> + +<p>A curious silence ensued. Anna was sitting before the fire a little +distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing. Some shadow of +reserve seemed to have crept up between them. She laughed nervously, +but kept her eyes averted.</p> + +<p>“It is strange that we should have met Annabel,” she said. “I am +afraid your broken dinner engagement will not be so easy to explain.”</p> + +<p>He was very indifferent. In fact he was thinking of other things.</p> + +<p>“I am going,” he said, “to be impertinent. I do not understand why you +and your sister should not see more of one another. You must be lonely +here with only a few men friends.”</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>“Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. +Besides—there is Sir John.”</p> + +<p>“Sir John is an ass!” he declared.</p> + +<p>“He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him.</p> + +<p>“Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. “It is rather odd,” he said, +“but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna.”</p> + +<p>“Many other people,” she remarked, “have made the same mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Again,” he said, “I am going to be impertinent. I never met your +sister in Paris, but I heard about her more than once. She is not in +the least like the descriptions of her.”</p> + +<p>“She has changed a good deal,” Anna admitted.</p> + +<p>“There is some mystery about you both,” he exclaimed, with sudden +earnestness. “No, don’t interrupt me. Why may I not be your friend? +Somehow or other I feel that you have been driven into a false +position. You represent to me an enigma, the solution of which has +become the one desire of my life. I want to give you warning that I +have set myself to solve it. To-morrow I am going to Paris.”</p> + +<p>She seemed unmoved, but she did not look at him.</p> + +<p>“To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw.”</p> + +<p>Then she looked up at him with frightened eyes.</p> + +<p>“David Courtlaw!” she repeated. “What has he to do with it?”</p> + +<p>“He was your sister’s master—her friend. A few days ago I saw him +leave your house. He was like a man beside himself. He began to tell +me something—and stopped. I am going to ask him to finish it.”</p> + +<p>She rose up.</p> + +<p>“I forbid it!” she said firmly.</p> + +<p>They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. She was very +pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“I will tell you as much as this,” she continued. “There is a secret. +I admit it. Set yourself to find it out, if you will—but if you do, +never dare to call yourself my friend again.”</p> + +<p>“It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered.</p> + +<p>He was silent. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>self-restraint slipping away. After all, what did it matter?—it or +anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, +beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the +light which was burning in his eyes. A quick flush stained her cheeks. +She put out her hands to avoid his embrace.</p> + +<p>“No!” she exclaimed. “You must not. It is impossible.”</p> + +<p>His arms were around her. He only laughed his defiance.</p> + +<p>“I will make it possible,” he cried. “I will make all things +possible.”</p> + +<p>Anna was bewildered. She did not know herself. Only she was conscious +of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. She gave her lips to his +without resistance. All her protests seemed stifled before she could +find words to utter them. With a little sigh of happiness she accepted +this new thing.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXI" id="Chapter_XXI"></a><i>Chapter XXI</i></h2> + +<h3>HER SISTER’S SECRET</h3> + +<p>“I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very +foolishly. I was quite as much annoyed as you were to see Mr. Ennison +with my sister last night. But apart from that, you have no particular +objection to him, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“The occurrence of last night is quite sufficient in itself,” Sir John +answered, “to make me wish to discontinue Mr. Ennison’s acquaintance. +I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would +enable you to see this. It is not possible for us to be on friendly +terms with a young man who has been seen in a public place, having +supper alone with your sister after midnight. The fact itself is +regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. +To receive him here afterwards would be most repugnant to me.”</p> + +<p>“He probably does not know of the relationship,” Annabel remarked.</p> + +<p>“I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with +it. In any case, he is liable to discover it at any time. My own +impression is that he already knows.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you think so?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“I noticed him call her attention to us as we passed down the room,” +he answered. “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we +were, but I think it improbable.”</p> + +<p>“Apart from the fact of his acquaintance with Anna—Annabel,” Lady +Ferringhall said quickly, “may I ask if you have any other objection +to Mr. Ennison?”</p> + +<p>Sir John hesitated.</p> + +<p>“To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his +calling here two or three times a week during my absence.”</p> + +<p>“How absurd!” Annabel declared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> “How could he call except in your +absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. And if I cared to +have him come every day, why shouldn’t he? I find him very amusing and +very useful as well. He brought his mother to call, and as you know +the Countess goes scarcely anywhere. Hers is quite the most exclusive +set in London.”</p> + +<p>“My feeling in the matter,” Sir John said, “is as I have stated. +Further, I do not care for you to accept social obligations from Mr. +Ennison, or any other young man.”</p> + +<p>“You are jealous,” she declared contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is +without a cause. You will forgive my remarking, Anna, that I consider +there is a great change in your manner towards me and your general +deportment since our marriage.”</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed gaily.</p> + +<p>“My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?”</p> + +<p>“You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. “To me it seems serious +enough. I have fulfilled my part of our marriage contract. Can you +wonder that I expect you to fulfil yours?”</p> + +<p>“I am not aware,” she answered, “that I have ever failed in doing so.”</p> + +<p>“You are at least aware,” he said, “that you have on several recent +occasions acted in direct opposition to my wishes.”</p> + +<p>“For example?”</p> + +<p>“Your dyed hair. I was perfectly satisfied with your appearance. I +consider even now that the present colour is far less becoming. Then +you have altered not only that, but your manner of dressing it. You +have darkened your eyebrows, you have even changed your style of +dress. You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from +your personal appearance all that reminded me of you—when we first +met.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The +likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark. You forget +that every one is going to the ‘Unusual’ to see her.”</p> + +<p>He frowned heavily.</p> + +<p>“I wish that I could forget it,” he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> “Fortunately I believe that +the relationship is not generally known. I trust that no unpleasant +rumours will be circulated before the election, at any rate.”</p> + +<p>Annabel yawned.</p> + +<p>“They might do you good,” she remarked. “‘Alcide’ is very popular.”</p> + +<p>Sir John turned towards the door.</p> + +<p>“It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for +jests.”</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. She heard her +husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his +carriage as he drove off. Then she threw the volume away with a little +impatient exclamation. She rose from her chair, and began walking up +and down the room restlessly. Every now and then she fingered an +ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. +Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“I am getting plain,” she said, with a little shudder. “This life is +killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!”</p> + +<p>Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. She went to her room and +changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark +walking dress. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and +taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat.</p> + +<p>Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. She rose at once with +a little exclamation, half of surprise, half of pleasure.</p> + +<p>“My dear Annabel,” she said, “this is delightful, but I thought that +it was forbidden.”</p> + +<p>“It is,” Annabel answered shortly. “But I wanted to see you.”</p> + +<p>Anna wheeled an easy chair to the fire.</p> + +<p>“You will have some tea?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. She was looking +about her, and her face was dark with anger. The little room was +fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences +of well being. Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had +been burning within her since the night of her visit to the +“Unusual.” Her voice trembled with suppressed passion.</p> + +<p>“I have come for an explanation,” she said. “You are an impostor. How +dare you use my name and sing my songs?”</p> + +<p>Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>“Annabel!” she exclaimed. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do +you mean?”</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed scornfully.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you know,” she said. “Don’t be a hypocrite. You are not ‘Alcide.’ +You have no right to call yourself ‘Alcide.’ You used to declare that +you hated the name. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it +all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. And yet the moment +I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my +rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all +on my reputation.”</p> + +<p>“Annabel! Annabel!”</p> + +<p>Annabel stamped her foot. Her tone was hoarse with passion.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you can act!” she cried. “You can look as innocent and shocked as +you please. I want to know who sent you those.”</p> + +<p>She pointed with shaking fingers to a great bunch of dark red +carnations, thrust carelessly into a deep china bowl, to which the +card was still attached. Anna followed her finger, and looked back +into her sister’s face.</p> + +<p>“They were sent to me by Mr. Nigel Ennison, Annabel. How on earth does +it concern you?”</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed hardly.</p> + +<p>“Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. “You are not content then with +stealing from me my name. You would steal from me then the only man I +ever cared a snap of the fingers about. They are not your flowers. +They are mine! They were sent to ‘Alcide’ not to you.”</p> + +<p>Anna rose to her feet. At last she was roused. Her cheeks were +flushed, and her eyes bright.</p> + +<p>“Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the +flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. But behind these +things which you have said to me there must be others of which I know +nothing. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to +take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices. In +your heart you know very well that this is absurd. It is you who took +my name, not I yours. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds +upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. It is I who +am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband.”</p> + +<p>Annabel shivered a little and looked around her.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> +<p>“He does not come here,” she exclaimed, quickly.</p> + +<p>“He spends hours of every day on the pavement below,” Anna answered +calmly. “I have been bearing this—for your sake. Shall I send him to +Sir John?”</p> + +<p>Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent.</p> + +<p>“It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. “He would never have found you +out if you had not personated me.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary,” Anna whispered quietly, “we met in a small +boarding-house where I was stopping.”</p> + +<p>“You have not told me yet,” Annabel said, “how it is that you have +dared to personate me. To call yourself ‘Alcide’! Your hair, your +gestures, your voice, all mine! Oh, how dared you do it?”</p> + +<p>“You must not forget,” Anna said calmly, “that it is necessary for me +also—to live. I arrived here with something less than five pounds in +my pocket. My reception at West Kensington you know of. I was the +black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. You did not complain then +that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and +for your sake I lied.”</p> + +<p>“You did not——”</p> + +<p>“Wait, Annabel! When I arrived in London I went to live in the +cheapest place I could find. I set myself to find employment. I +offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. I would even +have taken a place as waitress in a tea shop. I walked London till the +soles of my shoes were worn through, and my toes were blistered. I ate +only enough to keep body and soul together.”</p> + +<p>“There was no need for such heroism,” Annabel said coldly. “You had +only to ask——”</p> + +<p>“Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling +also in her tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man +to whom I had lied for your sake. It was not possible. I went at last +when I had barely a shilling in my purse to a dramatic agent. By +chance I went to one who had known you in Paris.”</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> +<p>“Well!”</p> + +<p>“He greeted me effusively. He offered me at once an engagement. I told +him that I was not ‘Alcide.’ He only laughed. He had seen the +announcement of your marriage in the papers, and he imagined that I +simply wanted to remain unknown because of your husband’s puritanism. +I sang to him, and he was satisfied. I did not appear, I have never +announced myself as ‘Alcide.’ It was the Press who forced the identity +upon me.”</p> + +<p>“They were my posters,” Annabel said. “The ones Cariolus did for me.”</p> + +<p>“The posters at least,” Anna answered quietly, “I have some claim to. +You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study +of me, and sent it to Cariolus. You denied it at the time—but +unfortunately I have proof. Mr. Courtlaw found the study in Cariolus’ +studio.”</p> + +<p>Annabel laughed hardly.</p> + +<p>“What did it matter?” she cried. “We are, or rather we were, so much +alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the +other. It saved me the bother of being studied.”</p> + +<p>“It convinced Mr. Earles that I was ‘Alcide,’” Anna remarked quietly.</p> + +<p>“We will convince him now to the contrary,” Annabel answered.</p> + +<p>Anna looked at her, startled.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Annabel set her teeth hard, and turned fiercely towards Anna.</p> + +<p>“It means that I have had enough of this slavery,” she declared. “My +husband and all his friends are fools, and the life they lead is +impossible for me. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the +social ladder. I’ve had enough of it. I want my freedom.”</p> + +<p>“You mean to say,” Anna said slowly, “that you are going to leave your +husband?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“You are willing to give up your position, your beautiful houses, your +carriages and milliner’s accounts to come back to Bohemianism?”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” Annabel declared. “I am sick of it. It is dull—deadly +dull.”</p> + +<p>“And what about this man—Mr. Montague Hill?”</p> + +<p>Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with +the back of a chair. She looked stealthily at Anna.</p> + +<p>“You have succeeded a little too well in your personation,” she said +bitterly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> “to get rid very easily of Mr. Montague Hill. You are a +great deal more like what I was a few months ago than I am now.”</p> + +<p>Anna laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“You propose, then,” she remarked, “that I shall still be saddled with +a pseudo husband. I think not, Annabel. You are welcome to proclaim +yourself ‘Alcide’ if you will. I would even make over my engagement to +you, if Mr. Earles would permit. But I should certainly want to be rid +of Mr. Montague Hill, and I do not think that under those +circumstances I should be long about it.”</p> + +<p>Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. Her knees were trembling, her +whole frame was shaken with sobs.</p> + +<p>“Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman. But oh, how +weary I am! I know. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, +“how did you get to know Mr. Ennison?”</p> + +<p>“He spoke to me, thinking that I was you,” Anna answered. “I liked +him, and I never undeceived him.”</p> + +<p>“And he sat at my table,” Annabel said bitterly, “and yet he did not +know me.”</p> + +<p>Anna glanced up.</p> + +<p>“You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for +your altered looks.”</p> + +<p>“For the others,” Annabel said tearfully, “that is well enough. But +for him——”</p> + +<p>Something in her sister’s tone startled Anna. She looked at her for a +moment fixedly. When she tried to speak she found it difficult. Her +voice seemed to come from a long way off.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr. Ennison slightly——”</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence in the little room. Anna sat with the face of +a Sphinx—waiting. Annabel thought, and thought again.</p> + +<p>“I knew Mr. Ennison better than I have ever told you,” she said +slowly.</p> + +<p>“Go on!”</p> + +<p>“You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an +Englishman’s. Nigel Ennison was he.”</p> + +<p>Anna stood up. Her cheeks were aflame. Her eyes were lit with +smouldering passion.</p> + +<p>“Go on!” she commanded. “Let me know the truth.”</p> + +<p>Annabel looked down. It was hard to meet that gaze.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> +<p>“Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered.</p> + +<p>“Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. “The truth!”</p> + +<p>Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXII" id="Chapter_XXII"></a><i>Chapter XXII</i></h2> + +<h3>AN OLD FOOL</h3> + +<p>Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She was +wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John +would not be home for several hours at least.</p> + +<p>“I am delighted to see you, Mr. Ennison,” she said, letting her +fingers rest in his. “Do come and cheer me up. I am bored to +distraction.”</p> + +<p>He took a seat by her side. He was looking pale and ill. There were +shadows under his eyes. He returned her impressive greeting almost +mechanically.</p> + +<p>“But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too +look tired. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. “I am just back +from Paris. I am bothered. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps +for help.”</p> + +<p>“You may be sure of the one,” she murmured. “The other too if it is +within my power.”</p> + +<p>“It is within yours—if anybody’s,” he answered. “It is about your +sister, Lady Ferringhall.”</p> + +<p>Annabel gave a little gasp. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the +lines of her mouth hardened. The change in her face was not a pleasant +one.</p> + +<p>“About my sister,” she repeated slowly.</p> + +<p>Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to +regard it.</p> + +<p>“Yes. You remember that you saw us at the Savoy a few evenings ago?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And you knew, of course, that we were old friends?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!”</p> + +<p>“Lady Ferringhall, I love your sister.”</p> + +<p>“You what?” she repeated incredulously.</p> + +<p>“I love your sister.”</p> + +<p>Lady Ferringhall sat with half closed eyes and clenched <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>teeth. Brute! +Fool! To have come to her on such an errand. She felt a hysterical +desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole +miserable truth. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost +superhuman.</p> + +<p>“But—your people!” she gasped. “Surely Lady Ennison would object, +even if it were possible. And the Duke, too—I heard him say that a +married secretary would be worse than useless to him.”</p> + +<p>“The difficulties on my own side I can deal with,” he answered. “I am +not dependent upon any one. I have plenty of money, and the Duke will +not be in the next Cabinet. My trouble is with your sister.”</p> + +<p>Lady Ferringhall was conscious of some relief.</p> + +<p>“She has refused to listen to you?”</p> + +<p>“She has behaved in a most extraordinary manner,” he answered. “We +parted—that night the best of friends. She knew that I cared for her, +she had admitted that she cared for me. I suppose I was a little +idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it +was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with +her. When I went I was refused admittance. I have since received a +most extraordinary letter from her. She offers me no explanation, +permits me absolutely no hope. She simply refuses to see or hear from +me again. I went to the theatre that night. I waited for her at the +back. She saw me, and, Lady Ferringhall, I shall never forget her look +as long as I live. It was horrible. She looked at me as though I were +some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in +the calendar. I could not have spoken to her. It took my breath away. +By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. My letters are +returned unopened, her maid will not even allow me across the +doorstep.”</p> + +<p>“The explanation seems to me to be reasonably simple,” Annabel said +coldly. “You seem to forget that my sister is—married.”</p> + +<p>“If she is,” he answered, “I am convinced that there are circumstances +in connexion with that marriage which would make a divorce easy.”</p> + +<p>“You would marry a divorcée?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“I would marry your sister anyhow, under any circumstances,” he +answered.</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you a question,” she said abruptly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> “This wonderful +affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting +with her in Paris?”</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>“I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe +that I regard her now as altogether the same person. Something has +happened to change her marvellously, either that, or she wilfully +deceived me and every one else in those days as to her real self. She +was a much lighter and more frivolous person, very charming and +companionable—but with a difference—a great difference. I wonder +whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden +glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal +more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion +and colouring are altogether different.”</p> + +<p>“I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony.</p> + +<p>“Will you help me?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“What can I do?”</p> + +<p>“Go and see her. Find out what I have done or failed to do. Get me an +interview with her.”</p> + +<p>“Really,” she said, with a hard little laugh, “you must regard me as a +very good-natured person.”</p> + +<p>“You are,” he answered unconsciously. “I am sure that you are. I want +her to tell me the whole truth about this extraordinary marriage. We +will find some way out of it.”</p> + +<p>“You think that you can do that?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it,” he answered, confidently. “Those things are +arranged more easily in any other country than England. At any rate +she must see me. I demand it as a right. I must know what new thing +has come between us that she should treat me as a lover one day and a +monster the next.”</p> + +<p>She leaned back amongst the cushions of her chair. She was very pale, +but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” +as he had first known her.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” she said, “how much you care.”</p> + +<p>“I care as a man cares only once in his life,” he answered promptly. +“When it comes there is no mistaking it.”</p> + +<p>“Did it come—in Paris?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” he answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> “I do not think so. What does it matter? +It is here, and it is here to stay. Do help me, Lady Ferringhall. You +need not be afraid. No trouble will ever come to your sister through +me. If this idiotic marriage is binding then I will be her friend. But +I have powerful friends. I only want to know the truth, and I will +move heaven and earth to have it set aside.”</p> + +<p>“The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. “Well——”</p> + +<p>She stopped short. He looked at her in some embarrassment.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” he said, “but I want to hear it from your sister. It is +her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been +trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets.”</p> + +<p>She was silent.</p> + +<p>“You will go and see her,” he begged.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. “It is +against my husband’s orders, and I am not sure that my sister will be +particularly glad to see me. But I will go.”</p> + +<p>“I shall always be grateful to you,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXIII" id="Chapter_XXIII"></a><i>Chapter XXIII</i></h2> + +<h3>MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST</h3> + +<p>At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s +flat. There was no response. She rang again with the same result. +Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a +thin crack between the door and the frame. She pushed the former and +it opened. The latch had not fully caught.</p> + +<p>The flat was apparently empty. Annabel turned on the electric light +and made her way into the sitting-room. There was a coffee equipage on +the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made +up. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for +her sister’s return.</p> + +<p>The clock struck half-past ten. The loneliness of the place somewhat +depressed her. She took up a book and threw it down again. Then she +examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by +her side. Amongst them was a revolver. She handled it half fearfully, +and set it carefully down again. Then for the first time she was +conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. She felt that +she was not alone.</p> + +<p>She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise +and fly. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the +lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken +cheeks. Her eyes were dilated—fixed in a horrified stare at the +parting in the curtains which hung before the window.</p> + +<p>There was some one there. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a +moment and draw the curtains a little closer. Even now she could trace +the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. She was wholly +unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence. A little smothered +cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man +stepped out. She was powerless to move from her chair. All through +that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him +silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her. She +could neither speak nor move nor cry out.</p> + +<p>“Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!”</p> + +<p>She did not speak. Her lips parted, but no words came.</p> + +<p>“What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. “You have dyed your +hair and darkened your eyebrows. But you are Annabel. I should know +you—in Heaven or Hell. Who is the other?”</p> + +<p>“What other?”</p> + +<p>Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. Her lips were dry and +cracked.</p> + +<p>“The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? +They call her by your old name. Her hair and voice and figure are as +yours used to be. Who is she, I say?”</p> + +<p>“My sister!” Annabel faltered.</p> + +<p>He trembled violently. He seemed to be labouring under some great +excitement.</p> + +<p>“I am a fool,” he said. “All these days I have taken her for you. I +have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. +And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear +from me. Is it so, Annabel?”</p> + +<p>“I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. Why should I?”</p> + +<p>“At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. I must not let you +go again. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife.”</p> + +<p>“No,” she moaned, “not that. I thought—the papers said——”</p> + +<p>“You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. “You pushed the wheel +from my hand. You jumped, and I think that you left me. Yet you knew +that I was not dead. You came to see me in the hospital. You must have +repented a little, or you would not have done that.”</p> + +<p>“I did not come,” she faltered. “It was my sister Anna. I had left +Paris.”</p> + +<p>He passed his hand wearily over his forehead.</p> + +<p>“That is where I got confused,” he said. “I opened my eyes, and she +was bending over my bedside. Then, I thought, she has repented, all +will be well. So I made haste and recovered. I came to London to look +for you, and somehow the figure I saw in my dreams had got mixed up +with you. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p><p>Annabel looked around her nervously.</p> + +<p>“These are her rooms,” she said. “Soon she will return.”</p> + +<p>“The sooner the better,” he answered. “I must explain to her. Annabel, +I cannot believe it. I have found you.”</p> + +<p>His eyes were burning. He advanced a step towards her. She held out +both her hands.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” she cried. “You frighten me!”</p> + +<p>He smiled at her indulgently.</p> + +<p>“But I am your husband,” he said. “You have forgotten. I am your +husband, though as yet your hand has scarcely lain in mine.”</p> + +<p>“It was a mistake,” she faltered. “You told me that your name was +Meysey Hill. I thought that you were he.”</p> + +<p>His face darkened.</p> + +<p>“I did it for love of you,” he said. “I lied, as I would have +committed a murder, or done any evil deed sooner than lose you. What +does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. I can keep you. You shall +have a house out at Balham or Sydenham, and two servants. You shall +have the spending of every penny of my money. Annabel, tell me that +you did not wish me dead. Tell me that you are not sorry to see me +again.”</p> + +<p>Her passion conquered for a moment her fear.</p> + +<p>“But I am sorry,” she exclaimed. “Our marriage must be annulled. It +was no marriage at all.”</p> + +<p>“Never,” he exclaimed vehemently. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing +shall ever make me give you up.”</p> + +<p>“But it is too late,” she declared. “You have no right to hold me to a +bargain which on your side was a lie. I consented to become Mrs. +Meysey Hill—never your wife.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“There is some one else whom I care for!”</p> + +<p>He laughed hardly.</p> + +<p>“Tell me his name,” he said, “and I promise that he shall never +trouble you. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little +nearer to her, “you are mine. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you +from me. We leave this room together. I shall not part with you +again.”</p> + +<p>“No,” she cried, “I will not. I will have nothing to do with you. You +are not my husband.”</p> + +<p>He came towards her with that in his face which filled her with blind +terror.</p> + +<p>“You belong to me,” he said fiercely;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> “the marriage certificate is in +my pocket. You belong to me, and I have waited long enough.”</p> + +<p>He stepped past her to the door and closed it. Then he turned with a +fierce movement to take her into his arms. There was a flash and a +loud report. He threw up his hand, reeled for a moment on his feet, +and collapsed upon the floor.</p> + +<p>“Annabel;” he moaned. “You have killed me. My wife—killed me.”</p> + +<p>With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers. She +stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. Her faculties seemed +for a moment numbed. She could not realize what she saw. Surely it was +a dream. A moment before he had been a strong man, she had been in his +power, a poor helpless thing. Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, +with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on +to the carpet. It could not be she who had done this. She had never +let off a pistol in her life. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a +faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling. The smell of gunpowder +was strong in the room.</p> + +<p>It was true. She had killed him. It was as much accident as anything, +but she had killed him. Once before—but that had been different. This +time they would call it murder.</p> + +<p>She listened, listened intently for several minutes. People were +passing in the street below. She could hear their footsteps upon the +pavement. A hansom stopped a little way off. She could hear the bell +tinkle as the horse shook its head. There was no one stirring in the +flats. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. She +moved a little nearer to him.</p> + +<p>It was horrible, but she must do it. She sank upon her knees and +unbuttoned his coat. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and +legal looking. She drew it out with shaking fingers. There was a great +splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. A deadly +sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round. She staggered +to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. She +held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. Then +she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more +upright.</p> + +<p>Still silence everywhere. She pulled down her veil and made her way to +the door. She turned out the electric light and gained the hall. Still +no sound. Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of +the front door and looked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>out. There was no one to be seen. She +passed down the stairs and into the street.</p> + +<p>She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift +level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible +faintness all the time hovered about her. Then she called a hansom and +drove home.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>“Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said gently, “I am afraid that some fresh +trouble has come to you.”</p> + +<p>She smiled at him cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“Am I dull?” she said. “I am sorry.”</p> + +<p>“You could never be that,” he answered, “but you are at least more +serious than usual.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. This is my last week at the +‘Unusual,’ you know. We begin rehearsing on Monday at the +‘Garrick’.”</p> + +<p>“Surely,” he protested, “the change is all in favour of your own +inclinations. It is your own choice, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>“Yes. But I believe that Mr. Earles thinks I am a little mad, and +between ourselves I am not sure about it myself. It is easy enough to +sing these little chansons in an original way—it requires a very +different sort of ability to succeed on the stage.”</p> + +<p>“You have it,” he declared confidently.</p> + +<p>She laughed altogether in her old manner.</p> + +<p>“I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much +more confidence in me than I have in myself.”</p> + +<p>“They know you better,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid,” she answered, “that one’s friends can judge only of the +externals, and the things which matter, the things inside are realized +only by oneself—stop.”</p> + +<p>She laid her fingers upon his arm, and they both stood still. They had +turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats +where Anna lived. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung +round the corner she had seen a strange thing. The curtains which she +had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on. +Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness.</p> + +<p>“There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said.</p> + +<p>“Is it your maid?” he asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>“I have given her two days’ holiday,” Anna answered. “She has gone +down into the country.”</p> + +<p>“And no one else—has a key?”</p> + +<p>“I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one. I am safe while I +am there, for I have had bolts fitted everywhere, and a pane of glass +in the front door. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I +am away. Look! Is that some one coming out?”</p> + +<p>The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim +and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps +in the opposite direction. Anna watched her with curious eyes.</p> + +<p>“Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked.</p> + +<p>“I am not sure,” Anna answered. “But, of course, she may have come +from one of the other flats.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” he said, “you had better let me have your key, and I will +go up and explore.”</p> + +<p>“We will go together,” she answered.</p> + +<p>They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the +outside stone steps of the flat. Anna herself opened the hall door. +They stood for a moment in the passage and listened. Silence! Then +Anna clutched her companion’s arm.</p> + +<p>“What was that?” she asked sharply.</p> + +<p>He had heard nothing. They both listened intently. Again silence.</p> + +<p>“I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered.</p> + +<p>He laughed reassuringly.</p> + +<p>“I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. Come.”</p> + +<p>He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the +electric light.</p> + +<p>“There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too +late. She was by his side. She too had seen. The thin stream of blood +on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost +to her feet.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXIV" id="Chapter_XXIV"></a><i>Chapter XXIV</i></h2> + +<h3>A CASE FOR THE POLICE</h3> + +<p>After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more +self-possessed. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently +unbuttoned his waistcoat. Then she looked up at Brendon.</p> + +<p>“You must fetch a doctor,” she said. “I do not think that he is quite +dead.”</p> + +<p>“And leave you here alone?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper. “Come with +me.”</p> + +<p>“I am not afraid,” she answered. “Please hurry.”</p> + +<p>He reeled out of the room. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own +self-possession. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the +blood seemed to be coming from. Then she stood up and looked around +the room.</p> + +<p>There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or +disarranged furniture. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt +paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. On +the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. Anna saw it, +and for the first time found herself trembling.</p> + +<p>She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front +of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with +damning insistence. It was Annabel’s. The lace was family lace, easily +recognizable. The perfume was the only one she ever used. Annabel had +been here then. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few +minutes before. It was she——</p> + +<p>Anna’s nerves were not easily shaken, but she found herself suddenly +clutching at the table for support. The room was reeling, or was it +that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme +effort. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. She took up +the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. Almost at the same moment +the door opened and Brendon entered, followed by the doctor.</p> + +<p>Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker +still in her hand. She met the keen grey eyes of a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>clean-shaven man, +between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. +Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her +side and took the poker from her.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, madam,” he said stiffly, “but in such a case as this it +is better that nothing in the room should be disturbed until the +arrival of the police. You have been burning paper, I see.”</p> + +<p>“Are you a detective or a doctor?” she asked calmly. “Do you need me +to remind you that your patient is bleeding to death?”</p> + +<p>He dropped on his knees by the man’s side and made a hurried +examination.</p> + +<p>“Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up.</p> + +<p>“I did,” Anna answered. “I hope that it has not done any harm.”</p> + +<p>“He would have been dead before now without it,” the doctor answered +shortly. “Get me some brandy and my bag.”</p> + +<p>It was nearly half an hour before they dared ask him the question.</p> + +<p>“Will he live?”</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head.</p> + +<p>“It is very doubtful,” he said. “You must send for the police at once, +you know. You, sir,” he added, turning to Brendon, “had better take my +card round to the police station in Werner Street and ask that +Detective Dorling be sent round here at once on urgent business.”</p> + +<p>“Is it necessary to send for the police?” Anna asked.</p> + +<p>“Absolutely,” the doctor answered, “and the sooner the better. This is +a case either of suicide or murder. The police are concerned in it in +either event.”</p> + +<p>“Please go then, Mr. Brendon,” Anna said. “You will come back, won’t +you?”</p> + +<p>He nodded cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“Of course I will,” he answered.</p> + +<p>The doctor and Anna were left alone. Every moment or two he bent over +his patient. He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as +possible.</p> + +<p>“Does he live here?” he asked her presently.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Far away?”</p> + +<p>“I have no idea,” Anna answered.</p> + +<p>“Who is the tenant of these rooms?” he inquired.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> +<p>“I am.”</p> + +<p>“You will have no objection to his remaining here?” he asked. “A move +of any sort would certainly be fatal.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” Anna said. “Had he better have a nurse? I will be +responsible for anything of that sort.”</p> + +<p>“If he lives through the next hour,” the doctor answered, “I will send +some one. Do you know anything of his friends? Is there any one for +whom we ought to send?”</p> + +<p>“I know very little of him beyond his name,” Anna answered. “I know +nothing whatever of his friends or his home. He used to live in a +boarding-house in Russell Square. That is where I first knew him.”</p> + +<p>The doctor looked at her thoughtfully. Perhaps for the first time he +realized that Anna was by no means an ordinary person. His patient was +distinctly of a different order of life. It was possible that his +first impressions had not been correct.</p> + +<p>“Your name, I believe, is——”</p> + +<p>“Pellissier,” Anna answered.</p> + +<p>“Allow me,” the doctor said, “to give you a word of advice, Miss +Pellissier. A detective will be here in a few moments to make +inquiries into this affair. You may have something to conceal, you may +not. Tell the whole truth. It always comes out sooner or later. Don’t +try to shield anybody or hide anything. It is bad policy.”</p> + +<p>Anna smiled very faintly.</p> + +<p>“I thank you for your advice,” she said. “I can assure you that it was +quite unnecessary. I know less about this affair perhaps than you +suppose. What I do know I shall have no hesitation in telling anyone +who has the right to ask.”</p> + +<p>“Just so,” the doctor remarked drily. “And if I were you I would keep +away from the fire.”</p> + +<p>Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown +moustache and restless grey eyes. The doctor nodded to him curtly.</p> + +<p>“Good evening, Dorling,” he said. “Before you do anything else I +should advise you to secure those charred fragments of paper from the +grate. I know nothing about this affair, but some one has been burning +documents.”</p> + +<p>The detective went down on his hands and knees. With delicate touch he +rescued all that was possible of them, and made a careful little +parcel. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded +man.</p> + +<p>“Shot through the lungs,” he remarked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p><p>The doctor nodded.</p> + +<p>“Bad hemorrhage,” he said. “I am going to fetch some things that will +be wanted if he pulls through the next hour. I found him lying like +this, the bleeding partly stopped by this scarf, else he had been dead +by now.”</p> + +<p>The doctor glanced towards Anna. Considering his convictions he felt +that his remark was a generous one. Anna’s face however was wholly +impassive.</p> + +<p>He took up his hat and went. The detective rapidly sketched the +appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from +under the table. Then he turned to Anna.</p> + +<p>“Can you give me any information as to this affair?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I will tell you all that I know,” Anna said. “My name is Anna +Pellissier, sometimes called Annabel. I am engaged to sing every +evening at the ‘Unusual’ music hall. This man’s name is Montague +Hill. I saw him first a few months ago at Mrs. White’s boarding-house +in Russell Square. He subjected me there to great annoyance by +claiming me as his wife. As a matter of fact, I had never spoken to +him before in my life. Since then he has persistently annoyed me. I +have suspected him of possessing a skeleton key to my apartments. +To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. It was then, I am sure, +empty. I dined with a friend and went to the ‘Unusual.’ At a quarter +past eleven I returned here with this gentleman, Mr. Brendon. As we +turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was +burning in this room. We stopped for a moment to watch it, and almost +immediately it was turned out. We came on here at once. I found the +door locked as usual, but when we entered this room everything was as +you see. Nothing has been touched since.”</p> + +<p>The detective nodded.</p> + +<p>“A very clear statement, madam,” he said. “From what you saw from the +opposite pavement then, it is certain that some person who was able to +move about was in this room only a minute or so before you entered +it?”</p> + +<p>“That is so,” Anna answered.</p> + +<p>“You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?”</p> + +<p>“No one,” Anna answered firmly.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> +<p>“Then either this man shot himself or some one else shot him +immediately before your arrival—or rather if it was not himself the +person who did it was in the room, say two minutes, before you +arrived.”</p> + +<p>“That is so,” Anna admitted.</p> + +<p>“I will not trouble you with any questions about the other occupants +of the flats,” Mr. Dorling said. “I shall have to go through the +building. You say that this gentleman was with you?”</p> + +<p>“I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially.”</p> + +<p>“You did not notice anything which may have escaped this lady? You saw +no one leave the flats?”</p> + +<p>“No one,” Brendon answered.</p> + +<p>“You heard no pistol-shot?”</p> + +<p>“None.”</p> + +<p>The detective turned again to Anna.</p> + +<p>“You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he +asked.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“There is no one else who has a key to your rooms?”</p> + +<p>“No one except my maid, who is away in Wiltshire.”</p> + +<p>“The inference is, then,” the detective said smoothly, “that this man +obtained admission to your rooms by means of a false key, that he +burnt some papers here and shot himself within a few moments of your +return. Either that or some other person also obtained admission here +and shot him, and that person is either still upon the premises or +escaped without your notice.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose,” Anna said, “that those are reasonable deductions.”</p> + +<p>The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket.</p> + +<p>“I brought a man with me who is posted outside,” he remarked. “With +your permission I should like to search the remainder of your rooms.”</p> + +<p>Anna showed him the way.</p> + +<p>“Have either of you been out of this room since you discovered what +had happened?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Brendon went for the doctor,” Anna answered. “I have not left +this apartment myself.”</p> + +<p>Nothing unusual was discovered in any other part of the flat. While +they were still engaged in looking round the doctor returned with a +nurse and assistant.</p> + +<p>“With your permission,” he said to Anna, “I shall arrange a bed for +him where he is. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his +life; there would be none at all if he were moved.”</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> +<p>“You can make any arrangements you like,” Anna declared. “I shall +leave the flat to you and go to a hotel.”</p> + +<p>“You would perhaps be so good as to allow one of my men to accompany +you and see you settled,” Mr. Dorling said deferentially. “In the +event of his death we should require you at once to attend at the +inquest.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to pack my bag,” Anna answered. “In five minutes I shall +be ready.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXV" id="Chapter_XXV"></a><i>Chapter XXV</i></h2> + +<h3>THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH</h3> + +<p>The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had +entered the room with a deferential little gesture.</p> + +<p>“You will pardon me, sir,” he said in a subdued tone, “but I think +that you have forgotten to look at your engagement book. There is Lady +Arlingford’s reception to-night, ten till twelve, and the Hatton House +ball, marked with a cross, sir, important. I put your clothes out an +hour ago.”</p> + +<p>Nigel Ennison looked up with a little start.</p> + +<p>“All right, Dunster,” he said. “I may go to Hatton House later, but +you needn’t wait. I can get into my clothes.”</p> + +<p>The man hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? +You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee.”</p> + +<p>“Bring me a whisky and soda, and a box of cigarettes,” Ennison +answered, “and then leave me alone, there’s a good fellow. I’m a +little tired.”</p> + +<p>The man obeyed his orders noiselessly and then left the room.</p> + +<p>Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his +whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>“What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and +leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. “And yet I wonder +whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex. Paris +looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges +Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, +self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all +others beside her seem plain or vulgar. And then—this sudden thrust. +God only knows what I have done, or left undone. Something +unpardonable is laid to my charge. Only last night she saw me, and +there was horror in her eyes.... I have written, called—of what avail +is anything—against that look.... What the devil is the matter, +Dunster?”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to +see you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p><p>Ennison turned round sharply.</p> + +<p>“A lady, Dunster. Who is it?”</p> + +<p>The man came a little further into the room.</p> + +<p>“Lady Ferringhall, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Quite alone, sir.”</p> + +<p>Ennison was dismayed.</p> + +<p>“For Heaven’s sake, Dunster, don’t let her out of the carriage, or +hansom, or whatever she came in. Say I’m out, away, anything!”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry, sir,” the man answered, “but she had sent away her hansom +before I answered the bell. She is in the hall now. I——”</p> + +<p>The door was thrown open. Annabel entered.</p> + +<p>“Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. “I heard your voices, and +the hall is draughty. What is the matter with you?”</p> + +<p>Dunster had withdrawn discreetly. Ennison’s manner was certainly not +one of a willing host.</p> + +<p>“I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he +said quietly. “For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a +moment. Dunster shall fetch you a cab. I——”</p> + +<p>She threw herself into an easy chair. She was unusually pale, and her +eyes were brilliant. Never had she seemed to him so much like Anna.</p> + +<p>“You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. “The conventions do not +matter one little bit. You will agree with me when you have heard what +I have to say. For me that is all over and done with.”</p> + +<p>“Lady Ferringhall! Anna!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She fixed her brilliant eyes upon him.</p> + +<p>“Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. “Call me +Annabel.”</p> + +<p>He started back as though he had been shot.</p> + +<p>“Annabel?” he exclaimed. “That is your sister’s name.”</p> + +<p>“No, mine.”</p> + +<p>It came upon him like a flash. Innumerable little puzzles were +instantly solved. He could only wonder that this amazing thing had +remained so long a secret to him. He remembered little whispered +speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he +loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. +Nevertheless it was overwhelming.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> +<p>“But your hair,” he gasped.</p> + +<p>“Dyed!”</p> + +<p>“And your figure?”</p> + +<p>“One’s <i>corsetière</i> arranges that. My friend, I am only grieved that +you of all others should have been so deceived. I have seen you with +Anna, and I have not known whether to be glad or sorry. I have been in +torment all the while to know whether it was to Anna or to Annabel +that you were making love so charmingly. Nigel, do you know that I +have been very jealous?”</p> + +<p>He avoided the invitation of her eyes. He was indeed still in the +throes of his bewilderment.</p> + +<p>“But Sir John?” he exclaimed. “What made you marry him? What made you +leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister +exchange identities?”</p> + +<p>“There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a +nervous little shudder. “It is a hateful story. Come close to me, and +let me hold your hand, dear. I am a little afraid.”</p> + +<p>There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. +Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. He +stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his.</p> + +<p>“You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey +Hill they called him?”</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>“Miserable bounder,” he murmured. “Turned out to be an impostor, too.”</p> + +<p>“He imposed on me,” Annabel continued. “I believed that he was the +great multi-millionaire. He worried me to marry him. I let him take me +to the English Embassy, and we went through some sort of a ceremony. I +thought it would be magnificent to have a great house in Paris, and +more money than any other woman. Afterwards we started for <i>déjeuner</i> +in a motor. On the way he confessed. He was not Meysey Hill, but an +Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. Every one took +him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me. I—well, I +lost my temper. I struck him across the face, twisted the steering +wheel of the motor, sprang out myself, and left him for dead on the +road with the motor on top of him. This is the first act.”</p> + +<p>“Served the beast right,” Ennison declared. “I think I can tell you +something which may be very good news for you presently. But go on.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>“Act two,” she continued. “Enter Sir John, very honest, very much in +love with me. I thought that Hill was dead, but I was frightened, and +I wanted to get away from Paris. Sir John heard gossip about us—about +Anna the recluse, a paragon of virtue, and Annabel alias ‘Alcide’ a +dancer at the <i>cafés chantants</i>, and concerning whom there were many +stories which were false, and a few—which were true. I—well, I +borrowed Anna’s name. I made her my unwilling confederate. Sir John +followed me to London and married me. To this day he and every one +else thinks that he married Anna.</p> + +<p>“Act three. Anna comes to London. She is poor, and she will take +nothing from my husband, the man she had deceived for my sake, and he, +on his part, gravely disapproves of her as ‘Alcide.’ She tries every way +of earning a living and fails. Then she goes to a dramatic agent. +Curiously enough nothing will persuade him that she is not ‘Alcide.’ +He believes that she denies it simply because owing to my marriage +with Sir John, whom they call the ‘Puritan Knight,’ she wants to keep +her identity secret. He forces an engagement upon her. She never calls +herself ‘Alcide.’ It is the Press who find her out. She is the image +of what I was like, and she has a better voice. Then enter Mr. Hill +again—alive. He meets Anna, and claims her as his wife. It is Anna +again who stands between me and ruin.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot let you go on,” Ennison interrupted. “I believe that I can +give you great news. Tell me where the fellow Hill took you for this +marriage ceremony.”</p> + +<p>“It was behind the Place de Vendome, on the other side from the Ritz.”</p> + +<p>“I knew it,” Ennison exclaimed. “Cheer up, Annabel. You were never +married at all. That place was closed by the police last month. It was +a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an +Englishman. Everything was done in the most legal and imposing way, +but the whole thing was a fraud.”</p> + +<p>“Then I was never married to him at all?” Annabel said.</p> + +<p>“Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. +“Annabel, I begin to see why you are here. Think! Had you not better +hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough. +You can tell me the rest another time.”</p> + +<p>She smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>“The rest,” she said, holding tightly to his hands,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> “is the most +important of all. You came to me, you wished me to speak to Anna. I +went to her rooms to-night. There was no one at home, and I was coming +away when I saw that the door was open. I decided to go in and wait. +In her sitting-room I found Montague Hill. He had gained admission +somehow, and he too was waiting for Anna. But—he was cleverer than +any of you. He knew me, Nigel. ‘At last,’ he cried, ‘I have found +you!’ He would listen to nothing. He swore that I was his wife, and—I +shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Shot him, do you +hear?”</p> + +<p>“Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously. “Is this true, +Annabel? Is he dead?”</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>“I shot him. I saw the blood come as he rolled over. I tore the +marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. And then I came +here.”</p> + +<p>“You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely.</p> + +<p>“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you +cared for in Paris, not Anna. She is a stranger to you. You cannot +care for her. Think of those days in Paris. Do you remember when we +went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river +past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown +fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver +across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. Oh, the +scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that +dived before us in the river. Nigel! You have not forgotten. It was +the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. +Nigel, you have not forgotten!”</p> + +<p>“No,” he said, with a little bitter smile. “I have never forgotten.”</p> + +<p>She suddenly caught hold of his shoulders and drew him down towards +her.</p> + +<p>“Nigel, don’t you understand. I must leave England to-night. I must go +somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off. I killed him, Nigel. They +will say that it was murder. But if only you will come I do not care.”</p> + +<p>He shook her hands off almost roughly. He stood away from her. She +listened with dumb fear in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> “We played at love-making in +Paris. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we +played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the +game—both of us. Other things came. We went our ways. There was no +broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. I met you +here as Lady Ferringhall. We have played at a little mild love-making +again. It has been only the sort of nonsense which passes lightly +enough between half the men and women in London. You shall know the +truth. I do not love you. I have never loved you. I call myself a man +of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love +meant—until I met your sister.”</p> + +<p>“You love—Anna?” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“I do,” he answered. “I always shall. Now if you are ready to go with +me, I too am ready. We will go to Ostend by the early morning boat and +choose a hiding place from there. I will marry you when Sir John gets +his divorce, and I will do all I can to keep you out of harm. But you +had better know the truth to start with. I will do all this not +because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister.”</p> + +<p>Annabel rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>“You are magnificent,” she said, “but the steel of your truth is a +little oversharpened. It cuts. Will you let your servant call me a +hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her +side. “I had no idea that it was so abominably late.”</p> + +<p>He scarcely saw her face again. She pulled her veil down, and he knew +that silence was best.</p> + +<p>“Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up.</p> + +<p>“Home, of course,” she answered. “Eight, Cavendish Square.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXVI" id="Chapter_XXVI"></a><i>Chapter XXVI</i></h2> + +<h3>ANNABEL IS WARNED</h3> + +<p>“You!”</p> + +<p>David Courtlaw crossed the floor of the dingy little sitting-room with +outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>“You cannot say that you did not expect me,” he answered. “I got +Sydney’s telegram at ten o’clock, and caught the ten-thirty from the +Gare du Nord.”</p> + +<p>“It is very nice of you,” Anna said softly.</p> + +<p>“Rubbish!” he answered. “I could not have stayed in Paris and waited +for news. Tell me exactly what has happened. Even now I do not +understand. Is this man Hill dead?”</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“He was alive at four o’clock this afternoon,” she answered, “but the +doctors give little hope of his recovery.”</p> + +<p>“What is there to be feared?” he asked her quietly.</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>“You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. I think that I will +tell you. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have +been in England. He claimed me for his wife, and showed to every one a +marriage certificate. He shot at me at the ‘Unusual,’ and the +magistrates bound him over to keep the peace. I found him once in my +rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. Last night +Mr. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying +in my room shot through the lungs. In the grate were some charred +fragments of a marriage certificate. We fetched the doctor and the +police. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. I +am suspected of having shot the man.”</p> + +<p>“But that is ridiculous!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She laughed a little bitterly.</p> + +<p>“I am under police surveillance,” she said. “So is Mr. Brendon.”</p> + +<p>“But there is not a shadow of evidence against you,” he objected.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> “The +man alone could supply any, and if he recovers sufficiently to say +anything, what he would say would exonerate you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence. Anna’s face was half turned from him, +but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. He +stepped quickly towards her. Her eyes seemed to be looking backwards. +She distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him. He was +bewildered.</p> + +<p>“Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. “Look at me. What is it? Good God!”</p> + +<p>An unhappy little smile parted her lips. She clenched her hands +together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the +fire.</p> + +<p>“I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything. I must tell +somebody—and you would understand.”</p> + +<p>“I am your friend,” he said slowly, “whatever you may have to tell me. +You can trust me, Anna. You know that. I will be as silent as the +grave.”</p> + +<p>“Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of +this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. You said that +it would bring trouble. It has.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Annabel’s real reason for wishing to leave Paris, the real reason she +married Sir John Ferringhall, was because of a very foolish thing +which she did. It was—in connection with this man Hill. He personated +over there a millionaire named Meysey Hill, and it seems that he +induced Annabel to go through some sort of marriage with him at the +Embassy.”</p> + +<p>“Where?” Courtlaw asked quickly.</p> + +<p>“In Paris.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw seemed about to say something. He changed his mind however, +and simply motioned to her to proceed.</p> + +<p>“Then there was a motor accident only an hour or so after this +ceremony, and Hill was reported to be killed. Annabel believed it, +came to England and married Sir John. Now you can understand why I +have been obliged to——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, I understand that,” Courtlaw interrupted. “But about last +night.”</p> + +<p>“Annabel knew where I lived,” Anna continued slowly. “She has been to +my flat before. I saw her come out from the flat buildings two minutes +before we entered it last night. I picked up her handkerchief on the +floor.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>“You mean—you think——”</p> + +<p>“Hush! I think that he was concealed in my room, and Annabel and he +met there. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not. The +pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from +him when he forced his way in upon me before. Now you can understand +why every minute is a torture to me. It is not for myself I fear. But +if he speaks—I fear what he may tell.”</p> + +<p>“You have been to her?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I dare not,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“I will go,” he said. “She must be warned. She had better escape if +she can.”</p> + +<p>Anna shook her head.</p> + +<p>“She will take her risk,” she answered. “I am sure of it. If he +recovers he may not accuse her. If he dies she is safe.”</p> + +<p>He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly.</p> + +<p>“There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on +their shoulders the burdens of other people. You, Anna, are one of +them. I know in Paris you pinched and scraped that your sister might +have the dresses and entertainments she desired. You fell in at once +with her quixotic and damnable scheme of foisting her reputation and +her follies upon your shoulders whilst she marries a rich man and +commences all over again a life of selfish pleasure. You on the other +hand have to come to London, a worker, with the responsibility of life +upon your own shoulders—and in addition all the burden of her +follies.”</p> + +<p>“You forget,” she said, looking up at him with a faint smile, “that +under the cloak of her name I am earning more money a week than I +could ever have earned in a year by my own labours.”</p> + +<p>“It is an accident,” he answered. “Besides, it is not so. You sing +better than Annabel ever did, you have even a better style. ‘Alcide’ +or no ‘Alcide,’ there is not a music hall manager in London or Paris +who would not give you an engagement on your own merits.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not,” she answered. “And yet in a very few weeks I shall have +done with it all. Do you think that I shall ever make an actress, my +friend?”</p> + +<p>“I doubt it,” he answered bluntly. “You have not feeling enough.”</p> + +<p>She smiled at him.</p> + +<p>“It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. All the +same, I don’t admit it.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>“To be an actress,” he said, “you require a special and peculiar +temperament. I do not believe that there has ever lived a really great +actress whose moral character from the ordinary point of view would +bear inspection.”</p> + +<p>“Then I,” she said, “have too much character.”</p> + +<p>“Too much character, and too little sentiment,” he answered. “Too much +sensibility and too cold a heart. Too easily roused emotions and too +little passion. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the +great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?”</p> + +<p>“You have become French to the core,” she murmured. “You would believe +that life is kindled by the passions alone.”</p> + +<p>There was silence between them. Then a servant girl brought in a +telegram. Anna tore it open and passed it to Courtlaw. It was from +Brendon.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Hill gradually recovering consciousness. Doctor says depositions +to-night. Recovery impossible.—<span class="smcap">Brendon</span>.”</p></div> + +<p>He looked at her gravely.</p> + +<p>“I think,” he said, “that some one ought to warn her.”</p> + +<p>“It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long +low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, +crowded with guests. From the further end of the apartment came the +low music of a violin. Servants were passing backwards and forwards +with tea and chocolate. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. +Then she came a few steps to meet him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows. “Really +it is very kind of you to have found me out.”</p> + +<p>He was bereft of words for a moment, and in that moment she escaped, +having passed him on deftly to one of the later arrivals.</p> + +<p>“Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. +David Courtlaw. Permit me to make him known to you—Mr. Courtlaw—Lady +Mackinnor.”</p> + +<p>With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had +come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, +was left to listen to the latest art jargon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>from Chelsea. He bore it +as long as he could, watching all the time with fascinated eyes +Annabel moving gracefully about amongst her guests, always gay, with a +smile and a whisper for nearly everybody. Grudgingly he admired her. +To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving +parasite—something quite insignificant. He had pictured her, if +indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting +alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave +to constant terror. And instead he found her playing the great lady, +and playing it well. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more +than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. At last he +could bear it no longer. He left his companion in the midst of a +glowing eulogy of Bastien Leparge, and boldly intercepted his hostess +as she moved from one group to join another.</p> + +<p>“Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. “I have a message from your +sister.”</p> + +<p>“Are you in a hurry,” she asked carelessly. “A lot of these people +will be going presently.”</p> + +<p>“My message is urgent,” he said firmly. “If you cannot listen to me +now it must remain undelivered.”</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders and led him towards a small recess. “So you +come from Anna, do you?” she remarked. “Well, what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Montague Hill is recovering consciousness,” he said. “He will +probably make a statement to-night.”</p> + +<p>“That sounds very interesting,” she answered coolly. “Perhaps I should +better be able to understand its significance if you would explain to +me who Mr. Montague Hill is.”</p> + +<p>“Your husband,” he answered bluntly.</p> + +<p>She did not wince. She laughed a little contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest. +If that is my sister’s message, pray return to her and say that the +doings and sayings of Mr. Montague Hill do not interest me in the +least.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be foolish,” he said sharply. “You were seen to leave the flat, +and your handkerchief was found there. Very likely by this time the +whole truth is known.”</p> + +<p>She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him.</p> + +<p>“What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> “I can see you and Anna +groaning and nodding your grave heads together. Bah! She does not know +me very well, and you—not at all. Do have some tea, won’t you? If +you must, go then.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw was dismissed. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly +dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. He +shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. Had it come +already?</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXVII" id="Chapter_XXVII"></a><i>Chapter XXVII</i></h2> + +<h3>JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN</h3> + +<p>“Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are +bewildered.”</p> + +<p>Sir John smiled.</p> + +<p>“My dear Anna,” he answered. “To tell you the truth, it has seemed +just lately as though we were becoming in some measure estranged. You +certainly have not shown much desire for my society, have you?”</p> + +<p>“You have been wrapped up in your politics,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>“There have been other times,” he said a little sadly.</p> + +<p>Her little white hand stole across the table. There was a look in her +eyes which puzzled him.</p> + +<p>“I have been very selfish,” she declared. “But you must forgive me, +John.”</p> + +<p>“I would forgive you a great deal more,” he answered readily, “for the +sake of an evening like this. You have actually given up a +dinner-party to dine alone with me.”</p> + +<p>“And made you give up a political meeting,” she reminded him.</p> + +<p>“Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. “I would have given up +anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I have not been very nice,” she said sadly. “Never mind. +You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of +atonement.”</p> + +<p>“I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall +have many more such to think about.”</p> + +<p>They were lingering over their dessert. The servants had left the +room. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little +folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it.</p> + +<p>“I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. +“It is nothing of any importance. John, I have something to say to +you.”</p> + +<p>“If you want to ask a favour,” he remarked smiling,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> “you have made it +almost impossible for me to refuse you anything.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to ask more than a favour,” she said slowly. “I am going +to ask for your forgiveness.”</p> + +<p>He was a little uneasy.</p> + +<p>“I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to +any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. +I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me +like this you will teach me to forget it.”</p> + +<p>Annabel looked intently into her glass.</p> + +<p>“John,” she said, “I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. I +am very, very sorry, but you must listen to me.”</p> + +<p>He relapsed into a stony silence. 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. She wore a wonderful dress of +turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she +knew very well now that she would never attend. Her hair once more was +arranged with its old simplicity. There was a new softness in her +eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost +pathetic.</p> + +<p>“You remember our first meeting?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered hoarsely. “I remember it very well indeed. You have +the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a +frightened child.”</p> + +<p>She looked into her glass.</p> + +<p>“I was frightened then,” she declared. “I am frightened now. But it is +all very different. There was hope for me then. Now there is none. No, +none at all.”</p> + +<p>“You talk strangely, Anna,” he said. “Go on!”</p> + +<p>“People talked to you in Paris about us,” she continued, “about Anna +the virtuous and Annabel the rake. You were accused of having been +seen with the latter. You denied it, remembering that I had called +myself Anna. You went even to our rooms and saw my sister. Anna lied +to you, I lied to you. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music +halls. My name is Annabel, not Anna. Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>“I do not,” he answered. “How could I, when your sister sings now at +the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every +placard in London?”</p> + +<p>“The likeness between us,” she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> “before I began to disfigure +myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. Anna failed in +her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own +living. She came to London, and tried several things without any +success.”</p> + +<p>“But why——”</p> + +<p>Sir John stopped short. With a moment of inward shame he remembered +his deportment towards Anna. It was scarcely likely that she would +have accepted his aid. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a +prig. He remembered it suddenly. He thought of his severe attitude +towards the girl who was rightly and with contempt refusing his +measured help. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. This was +his humiliation as well as hers.</p> + +<p>“Anna of course would not accept any money from us,” she continued. +“She tried everything, and last of all she tried the stage. She went +to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me +sing in Paris. He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide.’ He +thought she wished to conceal her identity because of the connexion +with you, and he offered her an engagement at once. She was never +announced as ‘Alcide,’ but directly she walked on she simply became +‘Alcide’ to every one. She had a better voice than I, and the rest I +suppose is only a trick. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint +smile across the table at him, “is here.”</p> + +<p>He sat like a man turned to stone. Some part of the stiff vigour of +the man seemed to have subsided. He seemed to have shrunken in his +seat. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice +before he spoke.</p> + +<p>“When you married me——”</p> + +<p>Her little hand flashed out across the table.</p> + +<p>“John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. I had been about as +foolish and selfish as a girl could be. I had done the most +compromising things, and behaved in the most ridiculous way. But from +the rest—you saved me.”</p> + +<p>Sir John breathed a long deep sigh. He sat up in his chair again, the +colour came back to his cheeks.</p> + +<p>“John, don’t!” she cried. “You think that this is all. You are going +to be generous and forgive. It isn’t all. There is worse to come. +There is a tragedy to come.”</p> + +<p>“Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. “Don’t you know, child, +that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to +tell me?”</p> + +<p>Her face had become almost like a marble image. She spoke with a +certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops +of ice upon the man who sat listening.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> +<p>“Before I met you I was deluded into receiving upon friendly terms a +man named Hill, who passed himself off as Meysey Hill the railway man, +but who was in reality an Englishman in poor circumstances. He was +going to settle I forget how many millions upon me, and I think that I +was dazzled. I went with him to what I supposed to be the British +Embassy, and went through a ceremony which I understood to be the +usual form of the marriage one used there. Afterwards we started for a +motor ride to a place outside Paris for <i>déjeuner</i>, and I suppose the +man’s nerve failed him. I questioned him too closely about his +possessions, and remarked upon the fact that he was a most inexpert +driver, although Meysey Hill had a great reputation as a motorist. +Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. I struck him across the face, +jumped out and went back by train to Paris. He lost control of the +machine, was upset and nearly killed.”</p> + +<p>“Did you say,” Sir John asked, “that the man’s name was Hill?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“The man who was found dead in your sister’s room was named Hill?”</p> + +<p>“It is the man,” she answered. “I killed him.”</p> + +<p>Sir John clutched at the table with both hands. A slow horror was +dawning in his fixed eyes. This was not the sort of confession which +he had been expecting. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, +but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her +words. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. +Everything was blurred. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, +almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. +Annabel a murderess! It was not possible.</p> + +<p>“Child!” he cried. “You do not know what you say. This is part of a +dream—some evil fancy. Think! You could not have done it.”</p> + +<p>She shook her head deliberately, hopelessly.</p> + +<p>“I think that I know very well what I am saying,” she answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> “I +went to Anna’s rooms because I felt that I must see her. He was there +concealed, waiting her return. He recognized me at once, and he +behaved like a madman. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had +given me to him at last. John, he was between me and the door. A +strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my +blood run cold with terror. He came over to me. I was helpless. +Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. I was not even sure whether +it was loaded. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and +fired.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” Sir John exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“He fell over at my feet,” she continued. “I saw him stagger and sink +down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. I bent over him. +Anna had told me that he carried always with him this bogus marriage +certificate. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. I burned +it.”</p> + +<p>“But the marriage itself?” Sir John asked. “I do not understand.”</p> + +<p>“There was no marriage,” she answered. “I was very foolish to have +been deceived even for a moment. There was no marriage, and I hated, +oh, how I hated the man.”</p> + +<p>“Did any one see you leave the flat?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I do not know. But David Courtlaw has been here. To-night they say he +will be conscious. He will say who it was. So there is no escape. And +listen, John.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“I went from Anna’s flat to Nigel Ennison’s rooms. I told him the +truth. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. He refused. He sent +me home.”</p> + +<p>Sir John’s head bent lower and lower. There was nothing left now of +the self-assured, prosperous man of affairs. His shoulders were bent, +his face was furrowed with wrinkles. He looked no longer at his wife. +His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth.</p> + +<p>There was a gentle rustling of skirts. Softly she rose to her feet. He +felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she +leaned over him. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her +other hand she held a glass of wine.</p> + +<p>“Dear husband,” she murmured. “I am so very, very sorry. I have +brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife +at all. But it is all over now, and presently there will be some one +else. I should like to have had you forgive me.”</p> + +<p>He did not move. He seemed to be thinking hard. She paused for a +moment. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye, John,” she said simply.</p> + +<p>Something in her tone made him look up. In a second the glass lay +shattered upon the carpet. There was a stain of wine upon her dress.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> +<p>“God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. “What were you doing?”</p> + +<p>Her voice was a little hysterical. Her unnatural calm was giving way.</p> + +<p>“It was poison—why not?” she answered. “Who is there to care +and—John.”</p> + +<p>His arms were around her. He kissed her once on the lips with a +passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given +no sign.</p> + +<p>“You poor little girl!” he cried. “Forgive you, indeed. There isn’t a +husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in +your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. It is no +crime, none at all. It is one of God’s laws that a woman may defend +her honour, even with the shedding of blood. While you talked I was +only making our plans. It was necessary to think, and think quickly.”</p> + +<p>She was altogether hysterical now.</p> + +<p>“But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. I asked him—to take me +away.”</p> + +<p>She saw him flinch, but he gave no sign of it in his tone.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. It must be my fault that +you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a +time as this. Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. You were afraid of +me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. +Bah. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. Pull yourself +together now. Drink this!”</p> + +<p>He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her +lips. She drank it obediently.</p> + +<p>“Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. +“Now listen. You go to your room and ring for your maid. I received a +telegram, as you know, during dinner. It contains news of the serious +illness of a near relation at Paris. Your maid has twenty minutes to +pack your dressing case for one night, and you have the same time to +change into a travelling dress. In twenty minutes we meet in the hall, +remember. I will tell you our plans on the way to the station.”</p> + +<p>“But you,” she exclaimed, “you are not coming. There is the +election——”</p> + +<p>He laughed derisively.</p> + +<p>“Election be hanged!” he exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> “Don’t be childish, Annabel. We +are off for a second honeymoon. Just one thing more. We may be +stopped. Don’t look so frightened. You called yourself a murderess. +You are nothing of the sort. What you did is called manslaughter, and +at the worst there is only a very slight penalty, nothing to be +frightened about in the least. Remember that.”</p> + +<p>She kissed him passionately, and ran lightly upstairs. In the hall +below she could hear his firm voice giving quick commands to the +servants.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXVIII" id="Chapter_XXVIII"></a><i>Chapter XXVIII</i></h2> + +<h3>THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE”</h3> + +<p>There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet +in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. +Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the +house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had +never yet failed her. She realized in a moment what had happened. Even +though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled +out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance +that something was wrong. She hesitated, and for a moment thought of +omitting her second verse altogether. The manager, however, who stood +in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced +the first few bars of the music. Then the storm broke. A long shrill +cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal. Then a roar of +hisses. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the +gallery, even from the stalls. And there arose too, a background of +shouts.</p> + +<p>“Who killed her husband?”</p> + +<p>“Go and nurse him, missus!”</p> + +<p>“Murderess!”</p> + +<p>Anna looked from left to right. She was as pale as death, but she +seemed to have lost the power of movement. They shouted to her from +the wings to come off. She could not stir hand or foot. A paralyzing +horror was upon her. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of +those hideous shouts. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery +hit her upon the cheek. The stage manager came out from the wings, and +taking her hand led her off. There was more shouting.</p> + +<p>The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech. He +regretted—more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this +evening. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would +regret it still more. (“No, no.”) They had shown themselves grossly +ignorant of facts. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult +a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. He +could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>(“Good job.”) Well, they might say that, but he knew very well that +before long they would regret it. Of his own certain knowledge he +could tell them that. For his own part he could not sufficiently +admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had +been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her +engagement. He should never sufficiently be able to regret the return +which they had made to her. He begged their attention for the next +turn.</p> + +<p>He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, +would have met with a fair reception. She, however, had no idea of +doing anything of the sort. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre +without a word to any one. The whole incident was so unexpected that +neither Courtlaw nor Brendon were awaiting. The man who sat behind a +pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment +absent. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a +hansom. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. It was +Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows.</p> + +<p>“Anna! Thank God I have found you at last. But you have not finished +surely. Your second turn is not over, is it?”</p> + +<p>She laughed a little hardly. Even now she was dazed. The horror of +those few minutes was still with her.</p> + +<p>“Have you not heard?” she said. “For me there is no second turn. I +have said good-bye to it all. They hissed me!”</p> + +<p>“Beasts!” he muttered. “But was it wise to sing to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Why not? The man was nothing to me.”</p> + +<p>“You have not seen the evening paper?”</p> + +<p>“No. What about them?”</p> + +<p>He called a hansom.</p> + +<p>“They are full of the usual foolish stories. To-morrow they will all +be contradicted. To-night all London believes that he was your +husband.”</p> + +<p>“That is why they hissed me, then?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. To-morrow they will know the truth.”</p> + +<p>She shivered.</p> + +<p>“Is this hansom for me?” she said. “Thank you—and good-bye.”</p> + +<p>“I am coming with you,” he said firmly.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” she begged.</p> + +<p>“You are in trouble,” he said. “No one has a better right than I to be +with you.”</p> + +<p>“You have no right at all,” she answered coldly.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> +<p>“I have the right of the man who loves you,” he declared. “Some day +you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to +remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated.”</p> + +<p>Anna gave her address to the driver. She leaned back in the cab with +half-closed eyes.</p> + +<p>“This is all madness,” she declared wearily. “Do you think it is fair +of you to persecute me just now?”</p> + +<p>“It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. “Only you are the +woman I love, and you are in trouble. And you are something of a +heroine, too. You see, my riddle is solved. I know all.”</p> + +<p>“You know all?”</p> + +<p>“Your sister has told me.”</p> + +<p>“You have seen her—since last night?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>Anna shivered a little. She asked no further questions for the moment. +Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh +in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. When they +reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement.</p> + +<p>“Now you must go,” she said firmly. “I have had a trying evening and I +need rest.”</p> + +<p>“You need help and sympathy more, Anna,” he pleaded, “and I have the +right, yes I have the right to offer you both. I will not be sent +away.”</p> + +<p>“It is my wish to be alone,” she said wearily. “I can say no more.”</p> + +<p>She turned and fitted the latchkey into the door. He hesitated for a +moment and then he followed her. She turned the gas up in her little +sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. On the mantelpiece +in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. +She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take +it.</p> + +<p>“Will you say what you have to say, please, and go. I am tired, and I +want to be alone.”</p> + +<p>He came and stood on the hearthrug close to her.</p> + +<p>“Anna,” he said, “you make it all indescribably hard for me. Will you +not remember what has passed between us? I have the right to take my +place by your side.”</p> + +<p>“You have no right at all,” she answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> “Further than that, I am +amazed that you should dare to allude to those few moments, to that +single moment of folly. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any +favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten.”</p> + +<p>“Why in Heaven’s name should I forget?” he cried. “I love you, Anna, +and I want you for my wife. There is nothing but your pride which +stands between us.”</p> + +<p>“There is great deal more,” she answered coldly. “For one thing I am +going to marry David Courtlaw.”</p> + +<p>He stepped back as though he had received a blow.</p> + +<p>“It is not possible,” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“Because you are mine. You have told me that you cared. Oh, you cannot +escape from it. Anna, my love, you cannot have forgotten so soon.”</p> + +<p>He fancied that she was yielding, but her eyes fell once more upon +that fatal envelope, and her tone when she spoke was colder than ever.</p> + +<p>“That was a moment of madness,” she said. “I was lonely. I did not +know what I was saying.”</p> + +<p>“I will have your reason for this,” he said. “I will have your true +reason.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him for a moment with fire in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“You need a reason. Ask your own conscience. What sort of a standard +of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very +well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, +every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. That is +what stands between us, if you would know—that.”</p> + +<p>She pointed to the envelope still resting upon the mantelpiece. He +recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. Her eyes noted +it mercilessly.</p> + +<p>“But your sister,” he said. “What has she told you?”</p> + +<p>“Everything.”</p> + +<p>He was a little bewildered.</p> + +<p>“But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?”</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>“I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. But if you do not leave +this room I must.”</p> + +<p>He took up his hat.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” he said. “You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no +right to treat any one as you are treating me. And yet—I love you. +When you send for me I shall come back. I do not believe that you will +marry David Courtlaw. I do not think that you will dare to marry +anybody else.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p><p>He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, +listening to his retreating footsteps. When she was quite sure that he +was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly +broke the seal.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">“Dearest A</span>——</p> + +<p>“I lied to you. Nigel Ennison was my very good friend, but there +is not the slightest reason for your not marrying him, if you +wish to do so.</p> + +<p>“My husband knows all. We leave England to-night.</p> + +<p class="right">“Ever yours,</p> + +<p class="right2"><span class="smcap">“Annabel</span>.”</p></div> + +<p>Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash. Ennison had +disappeared.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXIX" id="Chapter_XXIX"></a><i>Chapter XXIX</i></h2> + +<h3>MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME</h3> + +<p>The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him.</p> + +<p>“Where am I?” he muttered.</p> + +<p>Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him.</p> + +<p>“You are in a private room of St. Felix Hospital,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. A nurse was at the other end of +the room.</p> + +<p>“There was an accident with a pistol in Miss Pellissier’s room,” he +said.</p> + +<p>The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. His brows drew a little +nearer together.</p> + +<p>“Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. “I had found her at last, and +she shot me. Listen, you. Am I going to die?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid that you are in a dangerous state,” Courtlaw answered +gravely. “The nurse will fetch the doctor directly. I wanted to speak +to you first.”</p> + +<p>“Who are you?”</p> + +<p>“I am a friend of Miss Pellissier’s,” Courtlaw answered.</p> + +<p>“Which one?”</p> + +<p>“The Miss Pellissier in whose rooms you were, and who sings at the +‘Unusual,’” Courtlaw answered. “The Miss Pellissier who was at +White’s with us.”</p> + +<p>The man nodded.</p> + +<p>“I remember you now,” he said. “So it seems that I was wrong. Annabel +was in hiding all the time.”</p> + +<p>“Annabel Pellissier is married,” Courtlaw said quietly.</p> + +<p>“She’s my wife,” the man muttered.</p> + +<p>“It is possible,” Courtlaw said, “that you too were deceived. Where +were you married?”</p> + +<p>“At the English Embassy in Paris. You will find the certificate in my +pocket.”</p> + +<p>“And who made the arrangements for you, and sent you there?” Courtlaw +asked.</p> + +<p>“Hainault, Celeste’s friend. He did everything.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so,” Courtlaw said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> “You too were deceived. The place to +which you went was not the English Embassy, and the whole performance +was a fraud. I heard rumours of it in Paris, and the place since then +has been closed.”</p> + +<p>“But Hainault—assured—me—that the marriage was binding.”</p> + +<p>“So it would have been at the English Embassy,” Courtlaw answered, +“but the place to which you went was not the English Embassy. It was +rigged up for the occasion as it has been many a time before.”</p> + +<p>“But Hainault—was—a pal. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered +wearily.</p> + +<p>“Hainault was Celeste’s friend, and Celeste was Annabel’s enemy,” +Courtlaw said. “It was a plot amongst them all to humiliate her.”</p> + +<p>“Then she has never been my wife.”</p> + +<p>“Never for a second. She is the wife now of another man.”</p> + +<p>Hill closed his eyes. For fully five minutes he lay quite motionless. +Then he opened them again suddenly, to find Courtlaw still by his +side.</p> + +<p>“It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. “A +bad thing for me when that legacy came. I thought I’d see Paris, do +the thing—like a toff. And I heard ‘Alcide’ sing, and that little +dance she did. I was in the front row, and I fancied she smiled at me. +Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched +her come in, I watched her go. She dropped a flower—it’s in my +pocket-book now. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. I made Hainault’s +acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money. He shook his head all +the time. Annabel Pellissier was not like the others, he said. She had +a few acquaintances, English gentlemen, but she lived with her +sister—was a lady. But one day he came to me. It was Celeste’s idea. +I could be presented as Meysey Hill. We were alike. He was—a +millionaire. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and +since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. God help me.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw was alarmed at the man’s pallor.</p> + +<p>“You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me +just for a moment. The doctor will be here to see you in five minutes. +The nurse sent for him as soon as she saw that you were conscious. It +is very possible that he will ask you to tell him before witnesses how +you received your wound.”</p> + +<p>The man smiled at him.</p> + +<p>“You are their friend, then?”</p> + +<p>“I am,” Courtlaw answered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>“Which one?”</p> + +<p>“The one whose life you have been making a burden, who has been all +the time shielding her sister. I would have married her long ago, but +she will not have me.”</p> + +<p>“Bring her—here,” Hill muttered. “I——”</p> + +<p>The door opened, and the doctor entered softly. Hill closed his eyes. +Courtlaw stood up.</p> + +<p>“He has asked to see some one,” he whispered to the doctor. “Is there +any urgency?”</p> + +<p>The doctor bent over his patient, who seemed to have fallen asleep. +Presently he turned to Courtlaw.</p> + +<p>“I think,” he said, “that I would fetch any one whom he has asked to +see. His condition is not unfavourable, but there may be a relapse at +any moment.”</p> + +<p>So only a few minutes after Ennison’s departure, while Anna stood +indeed with her sister’s open letter still in her hand, Courtlaw drove +up in hot haste. She opened the door to him herself.</p> + +<p>“Will you come round to the hospital?” he asked. “Hill has asked for +you, and they will take his depositions to-night.”</p> + +<p>She slipped on her cloak and stepped into the hansom with him. They +drove rapidly through the emptying streets.</p> + +<p>“Will he die?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Impossible to say,” he answered. “We have a private room at St. +Felix. Everything is being done that can be.”</p> + +<p>“You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?”</p> + +<p>“Certain,” Courtlaw answered.</p> + +<p>“Has he accused any one yet?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” he answered. “I have scarcely left his side.”</p> + +<p>He was still conscious when they reached the hospital and his state +was much more favourable. The doctor and another man were by his +bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials +which had evidently been used close at hand. He recognised Anna, and +at once addressed her.</p> + +<p>“Thank you—for coming,” he said. “The doctor has asked me to give +them my reasons—for shooting myself. I’ve told them all that was +necessary, but I—wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a +nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank +you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to +death.”</p> + +<p>“I forgive you willingly,” Anna said, bending over him. “It has all +been a mistake, hasn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“No more talking,” the doctor interposed.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> +<p>“I want two words—with Miss Pellissier alone,” Hill pleaded.</p> + +<p>The doctor frowned.</p> + +<p>“Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but +you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength.”</p> + +<p>“Two words only,” Hill repeated.</p> + +<p>They all left the room. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to +whisper.</p> + +<p>“Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. I meant +mischief. But tell her this, too. I believed that our marriage was +genuine. I believed that she was my wife, or she would have been safe +from me.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell her,” Anna promised.</p> + +<p>“She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. “I have signed a +statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both +true.”</p> + +<p>His eyes were closed. Anna left the room on tiptoe. She and Courtlaw +drove homewards together.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXX" id="Chapter_XXX"></a><i>Chapter XXX</i></h2> + +<h3>SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE</h3> + +<p>Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey +little room writing letters. The room was worse than pokey, it was +shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, +wholly uninspiring. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who +was enjoying himself. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of +his tie and hair were almost rakish. He stamped his last letter as +Annabel entered.</p> + +<p>She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was +accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat.</p> + +<p>“John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. Do get your hat, and we will +go to that corner café.”</p> + +<p>“Right,” he answered. “I know the place you mean—very good cooking +for such an out-of-the-way show. I’ll be ready in a moment.”</p> + +<p>Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his +moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass.</p> + +<p>“I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any +one would recognize me. What do you think, Annabel?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think they would,” she admitted. “You seem to have cultivated +quite a jaunty appearance, and you certainly look years younger. One +would think that you enjoyed crawling away out of your world into +hiding, with a very foolish wicked wife.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word,” he declared, “you are right. I really am enjoying it. +It is like a second honeymoon. If it wasn’t for the fear that after +all—but we won’t think of that. I don’t believe any one could have +traced us here. You see, we travelled second class, and we are in the +least known quarter of Paris. To-night we leave for Marseilles. On +Thursday we embark for South America.”</p> + +<p>“You are a marvellous courier,” she declared, as they passed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>into the +street. “You see, I will take your arm. It looks so French to be +affectionate.”</p> + +<p>“There are some French customs,” he declared, “which are admirable. I +presume that I may not kiss you in the street?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. “If you attempted such a +thing it would be in order that I should smack you hard with the palm +of my hand upon the cheek.”</p> + +<p>“That is another French custom,” he remarked, “which is not so +agreeable. Here we are. Shall we sit outside and drink a <i>petit verre</i> +of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not,” she answered. “I am already so hungry that I shall +begin on the <i>petit pains</i>. I have an appetite which I dare not +increase.”</p> + +<p>They entered the place, a pleasant little café of the sort to be met +with in the outlying parts of Paris. Most of the tables were for those +who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with +tablecloths and laid for dinner. Sir John and Annabel seated +themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small +dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a +waiter.</p> + +<p>“Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a +low bow. The <i>carte de jour</i> was before Monsieur. He had but to give +his orders. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for +the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to +him year after year. And always they were well satisfied. He waited +the pleasure of Monsieur.</p> + +<p>Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a +word, and anglicizing others. When he had finished he took up the wine +list and ordered a bottle of dry champagne.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid,” he said to Anna afterwards, “that it was a mistake to +order the champagne sec. They will guess that I am English.”</p> + +<p>Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Did you—did you really think that they would take you for a +Frenchman?” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see why not,” he answered. “These clothes are French, and I’m +sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. Perhaps I +ought to have let you order the dinner, but I think I got through it +pretty well.”</p> + +<p>“You did,” Anna exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> “Thank Heaven, they are bringing the <i>hors +d’oeuvres</i>. John, I shall eat that whole tin of sardines. Do take them +away from me after I have had four.”</p> + +<p>“After all,” Sir John remarked complacently, “it is astonishing how +easy it is for people with brains and a little knowledge of the world +to completely hide themselves. I am absolutely certain that up to the +present we have escaped all notice, and I do not believe that any +casual observer would take us for English people.”</p> + +<p>A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an +adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them.</p> + +<p>“Permit me to offer you the English paper which has just arrived, Sir +John,” he said, holding out a <i>Daily Telegraph</i>. “You may find in it a +paragraph of some interest to you.”</p> + +<p>Sir John was speechless. It was Annabel who caught at the paper.</p> + +<p>“You—appear to know my name, sir,” Sir John said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. “I know you very +well by sight, Sir John. It is my business to know most people. We +were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow +lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot. I trust you will not accuse me of +discourtesy if I express my pleasure that henceforth our ways will lie +apart.”</p> + +<p>A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. The +stranger with a bow returned to his table.</p> + +<p>“Read this, John.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="center">“<span class="smcap">The Bucknall Mansions Mystery</span>.</p> + +<p>“Montague Hill, the man who was found lying wounded in Bucknall +Mansions late on Wednesday night in the rooms of a well-known +artiste, has recovered sufficiently to make a statement to the +police. It appears that he was an unsuccessful admirer of the +lady in question, and he admits that, under the influence of +drink, he broke into her rooms, and there made a determined +attempt at suicide. He further gave the name and address of the +firm from whom he purchased the revolver and cartridges, a member +of which firm has since corroborated his statement.</p> + +<p>“Hill’s confession will finally refute a number of absurd stories +which have been in circulation during the last few days. We +understand that, notwithstanding the serious nature of the man’s +injuries, there is every possibility of his recovery.”</p></div> + +<p>Annabel pulled down her veil to hide the tears. Sir John filled his +glass with trembling hand.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>“Thank God,” he exclaimed. “The fellow is not such a blackguard, after +all.”</p> + +<p>Annabel’s hand stole into his.</p> + +<p>“And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. “I wouldn’t have been +without this trip for worlds. It has been a real honeymoon trip, +Annabel, for I feel that it has given me a wife.”</p> + +<p>Annabel pulled up her veil.</p> + +<p>“You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. “I do hope that I +shall be able to make it up to you.”</p> + +<p>Sir John’s reply was incoherent. He called a waiter.</p> + +<p>“Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he +will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me.”</p> + +<p>The stranger came over to them smiling. He had been on the point of +leaving the restaurant. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed.</p> + +<p>“I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he +said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. If I might +take the liberty, Sir John,” he added, with a humorous gleam in his +eyes, “I should like to congratulate you upon your tie.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends +inside his coat.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>“I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we +haven’t had—tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz.”</p> + +<p>Annabel shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Look at our clothes,” she exclaimed, “and besides, the funny little +proprietor has gone down himself to help it along. He would be so +disappointed. I am sure it will be good, John, and I could eat +anything. No, let us dine here, and then go and have our coffee on the +boulevards. We can take our things up with us and stay at the +Continental or the Ritz.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent,” Sir John declared. “We will do Paris like the tourists, +and thank God here comes dinner.”</p> + +<p>Everything was good. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped +before in his life. They drove up into Paris in an open <i>fiacre</i> with +a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>hand in hand beneath the +rug. They went first to a hotel, and then out again on to the +boulevards. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected +them both. They laughed and talked and stared about them. She took his +hand in hers.</p> + +<p>“Dear John,” she whispered. “We are to begin our married life +to-night—here where I first met you. I shall only pray that I may +reward you for all your goodness to me.”</p> + +<p>Sir John, frankly oblivious of the possibility of passers-by, took her +into his arms and kissed her. Then he stood up and hailed a <i>fiacre</i>.</p> + +<p>“Hotel Ritz!”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXXI" id="Chapter_XXXI"></a><i>Chapter XXXI</i></h2> + +<h3>ANNA’S TEA PARTY</h3> + +<p>“I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, +as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair.</p> + +<p>“I have heard of you, of course,” Anna answered hesitatingly, +“but——”</p> + +<p>“You cannot imagine what I have come to see you about. Well, I am +Nigel Ennison’s sister!”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” Anna said.</p> + +<p>“Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. “He is a sad +blunderer. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. He +is an awfully good sort—and now he has come to me to help him if I +can. Do you know that he is very much in love with you?”</p> + +<p>Anna smiled.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she admitted. “He has said something of the sort.”</p> + +<p>“And you have sent him about his business. He tells me that you will +not even see him. I don’t want to bother you, of course. A woman has a +perfect right to choose her own husband, but Nigel seemed to think +that there was something a little mysterious about your treatment of +him. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would +not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. +There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you +can make out what I mean. Don’t you care for Nigel at all?”</p> + +<p>Anna was silent for a moment or two.</p> + +<p>Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned +back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes.</p> + +<p>“I like your brother better than any other man I know,” Anna said at +last.</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t think you told him as much as that, did you?” Lady +Lescelles asked.</p> + +<p>“I did not,” Anna answered. “To be frank with you, Lady Lescelles, +when your brother asked me the other day to be his wife I was under a +false impression as regards his relations—with some other person. I +know now that I was mistaken.”</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> +<p>“That sounds more promising,” Lady Lescelles declared. “May I tell +Nigel to come and see you again? I am not here to do his love-making +for him, you know. I came to see you on my own account.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you very much,” Anna said. “It is very nice of you to come, but +I do not think for the present, at any rate, I could give him any +other answer. I do not intend to be married, or to become engaged just +at present.”</p> + +<p>“Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. “I can only be a few +years older than you, and I have been married four years. I can assure +you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. One gets a lot more fun +married.”</p> + +<p>“Our cases are scarcely similar,” Anna remarked.</p> + +<p>“Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. “You are one of the Hampshire +Pellissiers, I know, and your family are quite as good as ours. As for +money, Nigel has tons of it.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t exactly that,” Anna answered, “but to tell you the truth, I +cannot bear to look upon myself as a rank failure. We girls, my sister +and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my +mind to make some little place in the world for myself. I tried +painting and couldn’t get on. Then I came to London and tried almost +everything—all failures. I had two offers of marriage from men I +liked very much indeed, but it never occurred to me to listen to +either of them. You see I am rather obstinate. At last I tried a +dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you can’t say you’re a failure there,” Lady Lescelles remarked, +smiling. “I’ve been to hear you lots of times.”</p> + +<p>“I have been more fortunate than I deserved,” Anna answered, “but I +only meant to stay upon the music hall stage until I could get +something better. I am rehearsing now for a new play at the ‘Garrick’ +and I have quite made up my mind to try and make some sort of position +for myself as an actress.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think it is really worth while?” Lady Lescelles asked gently. +“I am sure you will marry Nigel sooner or later, and then all your +work will be thrown away.”</p> + +<p>Anna shook her head.</p> + +<p>“If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of +humiliation. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one +else to fight my battles for me.”</p> + +<p>“What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?”</p> + +<p>Anna laughed.</p> + +<p>“Afterwards,” she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> “I should be perfectly content to have +everything done for me. But I do think that if a girl is to feel +comfortable about it they should start fairly equal. Take your case, +for instance. You brought your husband a large fortune, your people +were well known in society, your family interest I have heard was +useful to him in his parliamentary career. So far as I am concerned, I +am just now a hopeless nonentity. Your brother has everything—I have +not shown myself capable even of earning my own living except in a way +which could not possibly bring any credit upon anybody. And beyond +this, Lady Lescelles, as you must know, recent events have set a good +many people’s tongues wagging, and I am quite determined to live down +all this scandal before I think of marrying any one.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure,” Lady Lescelles said, gently, “that the last consideration +need not weigh with you in the least. No one in the world is beyond +the shaft of scandal—we all catch it terribly sometimes. It simply +doesn’t count.”</p> + +<p>“You are very kind,” Anna said. “I do hope I have been able to make +you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. +It does sound a little horrid to talk so much about oneself and to +have views.”</p> + +<p>“I think,” Lady Lescelles said, putting down her teacup, “that I must +send Nigel to plead his own cause. I may tell him, at any rate, that +you will see him?”</p> + +<p>“I shall like to see him,” Anna answered. “I really owe him something +of an apology.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell him,” Lady Lescelles said. “And now let us leave the men +alone and talk about ourselves.”</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>“I am delighted to see you all here,” Anna said smiling upon them from +behind the tea-tray, “but I shall have to ask you to excuse me for a +few minutes. My agent is here, and he has brought his contract for me +to sign. I will give you all some tea, and then I must leave you for a +few minutes.”</p> + +<p>The three men, who had arrived within a minute or two of one another, +received her little speech in dead silence. Ennison, who had been +standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further +into the room.</p> + +<p>“Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I came here this afternoon hoping +particularly to see you for a few moments before you signed that +contract.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p><p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need +not keep poor Mr. Earles waiting.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw suddenly interposed.</p> + +<p>“May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the +same intention.”</p> + +<p>“And I also,” Brendon echoed.</p> + +<p>Anna was suddenly very quiet.</p> + +<p>She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life.</p> + +<p>“If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give +one to each of you. I know that you are all my friends, and I know +that you all have very good advice to give me. But I am afraid I am a +shockingly obstinate and a very ungrateful person. No, don’t let me +call myself that. I am grateful, indeed I am. But on this matter my +mind is quite made up.”</p> + +<p>Ennison hesitated for a moment.</p> + +<p>“Miss Pellissier,” he said, “these gentlemen are your friends, and +therefore they are my friends. If I am to have no other opportunity I +will speak before them. I came here to beg you not to sign that +contract. I came to beg you instead to do me the honour of becoming my +wife.”</p> + +<p>“And I,” Courtlaw said, “although I have asked before in vain, have +come to ask you once more the same thing.”</p> + +<p>“And I,” Brendon said, humbly, “although I am afraid there is no +chance for me, my errand was the same.”</p> + +<p>Anna looked at them for a moment with a pitiful attempt at a smile. +Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders +shook violently.</p> + +<p>“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. “I—I shall be all +right directly.”</p> + +<p>Brendon rushed to the piano and strummed out a tune.</p> + +<p>The others hurried to the window. And Anna was conscious of a few +moments of exquisite emotion. After all, life had still its +pulsations. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had +ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that +moment of regret or even pity.</p> + +<p>She called them back very soon.</p> + +<p>The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have +stolen into her face. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new +timidity in her manner.</p> + +<p>“My friends,” she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> “my dear friends, I am going to make the same +answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at +all. At present I cannot marry, I will not become bound even to any +one. It would be very hard perhaps to make you understand just how I +feel about it. I won’t try. Only I feel that you all want to make life +too easy for me, and I am determined to fight my own battles a little +longer. If any of you—or all of you feel the same in six months’ time +from to-day, will you come, if you care to, and see me then?”</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence. Ennison spoke at last.</p> + +<p>“You will sign the contract?”</p> + +<p>“I shall sign the contract. I think that I am very fortunate to have +it to sign.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean,” Courtlaw asked, “that from now to the end of the six +months you do not wish to see us—any of us?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes were a little dim again.</p> + +<p>“I do mean that,” she declared. “I want to have no distractions. My +work will be all sufficient. I have an aunt who is coming to live with +me, and I do not intend to receive any visitors at all. It will be a +little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I +shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself—and I think for +you. Do not avoid me if we meet by accident, but I trust to you all +not to let the accident happen if you can help it.”</p> + +<p>Brendon rose and came towards her with outstretched hand.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye, Miss Pellissier, and success to you,” he said. “May you +have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you +forget us.”</p> + +<p>Courtlaw rose too.</p> + +<p>“You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. “I do not know whether to +wish you success or not. I will wish you success or failure, whichever +is the better for you.”</p> + +<p>“And I,” Ennison said, holding her fingers tightly, and forcing her to +look into his eyes, “I will tell you what I have wished for you when +we meet six months from to-day.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XXXII" id="Chapter_XXXII"></a><i>Chapter XXXII</i></h2> + +<h3>SIX MONTHS AFTER</h3> + +<p>Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, +came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early +morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in +her eyes. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping +with dew, in the other the post-bag.</p> + +<p>She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering +creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. +Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee +equipage. By the side of her plate was a small key. With trembling +fingers she opened the post-bag. There was one letter. One only.</p> + +<p>She opened and read it at once. It was dated from the House of Commons +on the previous day.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">My Dear Miss Pellissier</span>,—</p> + +<p>“To-morrow the six months will be up. For days I have been +undecided as to whether I would come to you or no. I would like +you to believe that the decision I have arrived at—to stay +away—is wholly and entirely to save you pain. It should be the +happiest day of your life, and I would not detract from its +happiness by letting you remember for a moment that there are +others to whom your inevitable decision must bring some pain.</p> + +<p>“For I know that you love Ennison. You tried bravely enough to +hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to +speak to us in the same tone. It was not your fault you failed. +If by any chance I have made a mistake a word will bring me to +you. But I know very well that that word will never be spoken.</p> + +<p>“Your great success has been my joy, our joy as well as yours. +You have made for yourself a unique place upon the stage. We have +so many actresses who aspire to great things in the drama, not +one who can interpret as you have interpreted it, the delicate +finesse, the finer lights and shades of true comedy. Ennison will +make a thousand enemies if he takes you from the stage. Yet I +think that he will do it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>“For my own part I have come fully now into my inheritance. I am +bound to admit that I greatly enjoy my altered life. Every minute +I spend here is an education to me. Before very long I hope to +have definite work. Some of my schemes are already in hand. +People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist. Yet I +fancy that we who have been poor ourselves must be the best +judges of the needs of the people.</p> + +<p>“You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your +letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old +place as</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Your devoted friend,</p> + +<p class="right2">“<span class="smcap">Walter Brendon</span>.”</p> +</div> + +<p>She set the letter down, and drew from her pocket another with a +foreign post mark which had come the day before. This one too she +read.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Hassell’s Camp</span>,</p> +<p class="right2">“<span class="smcap">Near Colorado</span>.</p> + +<p>“On or about the day you receive this letter, Anna, the six +months will be up. Do you expect me, I wonder. I think not. At +any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet +above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes +fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. +Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing +through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of +this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of +primaeval nature. It is a true saying that in the mountains there +is peace. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in +the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. I love you still, +Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman. +Some day I shall come back, and I will show you on canvas the +things which have come to me up here amongst the eternal silence.</p> + +<p>“Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. Your face has flitted +out of my watch-fire, and then I have been a haunted man. But +with the morning, the glorious unstained morning the passion of +living would stir even the blood of a clod. It comes over the +mountains, Anna, pink darkening into orange red, everywhere a +wonderful cloud sea, scintillating with colour. It is enough to +make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless +precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and +absolute impotence. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist +of us all a pigmy. When I think of those ateliers of ours, the +art jargon, the decadents with their flamboyant talk I long <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>for +a two-edged sword and a minute of Divinity. To perdition with +them all.</p> + +<p>“I shall come back, if at all, a new man. I have a new cult to +teach, a new enthusiasm. I feel years younger, a man again. My +first visit will be to you. I must tell you all about God’s land, +this marvellous virgin country, with its silent forests and +dazzling peaks. I make no apology for not being with you now. You +love Ennison. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost +departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness +and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these +lonely months. Yet I shall think of you to-day. I pray, Anna, +that you may find your happiness.</p> + +<p class="right">“Your friend,</p> +<p class="right2">“<span class="smcap">David Courtlaw</span>.</p> + +<p>“P.S.—I do not congratulate you on your success. I was certain +of it. I am glad or sorry according as it has brought you +happiness.”</p></div> + +<p>Anna’s eyes were a little dim as she poured out her coffee, and the +laugh she attempted was not altogether a success.</p> + +<p>“This is all very well,” she said, “but two out of the three are rank +deserters—and if the papers tell the truth the third is as bad. I +believe I am doomed to be an old maid.”</p> + +<p>She finished her breakfast and strolled out across the garden with the +letters still in her hand. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, +and at the top a small pine plantation. She climbed slowly towards it, +keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding +her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. Arrived in the plantation +she sat down with her back against a tree trunk.</p> + +<p>Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. +Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, +and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden +gorse. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six +months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. And +she found herself able to do nothing of the sort. A new restlessness +seemed to have stolen in upon her. She started at the falling of a +leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. Her heart was +beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was +conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was +scarcely responsible for. She struggled against it quite uselessly. +She knew very well that a new thing was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>stirring in her. The period +of repression was over. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, +foolish. He will not come. He cannot.</p> + +<p>And then all her restlessness was turned to joy. She sprang to her +feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. So he found +her when he came round the corner of the spinney.</p> + +<p>“Anna,” he cried eagerly.</p> + +<p>She held out her arms to him and smiled.</p> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<p>“And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?”</p> + +<p>“Deserters,” she answered, laughing. “It is you alone, Nigel, who have +saved me from being an old maid. Here are their letters.”</p> + +<p>He took them from her and read them. When he came to a certain +sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her.</p> + +<p>“So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. +I too, Anna, have watched and read of your success with—I must +confess it—some misgiving.”</p> + +<p>“Please tell me why?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power. You +have made your public, you are already a personage. And I want you for +myself—for my wife.”</p> + +<p>She took his hand and smiled upon him.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely +for this I have worked so hard. It is just the aim I have had in view +all the time. I wanted to have something to give up. I did not +care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King +Cophetua.”</p> + +<p>“Then you will really give it all up!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>“When we go indoors I will show you the offers I have refused,” she +answered. “They have all been trying to turn my head. I think that +nearly every manager in London has made me an offer. My reply to all +of them has been the same. My engagement at the ‘Garrick’ terminates +Saturday week, and then I am free.”</p> + +<p>“You will make me horribly conceited,” he answered. “I think that I +shall be the most unpopular man in London. You are not playing +to-night, are you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>“Not to-night,” she answered. “I am giving my understudy a chance. I +am going up to dine with my sister.”</p> + +<p>“Annabel is a prophetess,” he declared. “I too am asked.”</p> + +<p>“It is a conspiracy,” she exclaimed. “Come, we must go home and have +some luncheon. My little maidservant will think that I am lost.”</p> + +<p>They clambered down the hill together. The air was sweet with the +perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky +was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented +west wind. Ennison paused by the little gate.</p> + +<p>“I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the +lotus-eaters. Here one might live the life of golden days.”</p> + +<p>She shook her head gently.</p> + +<p>“Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. +“These are the playgrounds of life. The great heart of the world beats +only where men and women are gathered together. You have your work +before you, and I——”</p> + +<p>He kissed her on the lips.</p> + +<p>“I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister.”</p> + +<h3>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:</h3> + +<p>Typesetting and editing of the original book from which this e-text +has been transcribed was inconsistent. In addition to minor changes in +punctuation, the theater in London in which the main character was a +singer was referred to as the ‘Unusual’ and as the 'Universal'; this +has been changed to refer to the theater consistently as the +‘Unusual.’ Additionally, Russell Square, the area in London where the +main character resided was referred to twice as Russell Street; this +has been changed to be consistent throughout this etext. Otherwise, +every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and +intent. +</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Anna the Adventuress, by E. 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