” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? 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. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it. ’ For the space of half a minute, Gerald continued to scowl in silent frustration. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury.
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