Returning in moments, Mr. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. She rose to the fire to stoke it. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents.
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