Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. The funeral, it has just been said, took place on that day. ” She replied weakly. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. “Annabel at last,” he shouted.
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