And he liked her. I’m talking to you now as though you had all the wisdom and charity in the world. I always wondered why he bought my mother's pearls so readily. I wanted something alive. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed.
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