“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. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. “It is not an easy matter,” he said, “for me to offer you an altogether adequate explanation. ’ A peal of laughter came from the girl. Ennison better than I have ever told you,” she said slowly. “Do come and see the Michaelmas daisies at the end of the garden,” said Mr.
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