” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. I thought I’d see Paris, do the thing—like a toff. He took about five minutes. Mr. Her aunt had secretly sent on to Ann Veronica some new warm underclothing, a dozen pairs of stockings, and her last winter’s jacket, but the dear lady had overlooked those boots. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of light material, and stood near the corner where the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite out of sight of all the party, except Mrs. "Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business—if you really are privy to the affair——" "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink.
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