The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men. ” “And he sat at my table,” Annabel said bitterly, “and yet he did not know me. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader.
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