Now the baby’s bright May eyes peered up at her intently. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. A moment before he had been a strong man, she had been in his power, a poor helpless thing. You knew me in Paris. Stanley went on, “but there are things— there are stories about Ramage. ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once.
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