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. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. The situation bothered him considerably. ‘Looks like it. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. ‘You see, it is that I have a plan to marry an Englishman. I arrived here with something less than five pounds in my pocket. "When did you see him, my love?" "A short time ago," replied the housekeeper, unsuspiciously. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. \"Some of them do smell good, though.
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