” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English Club on the following evening. They say it hasn't been opened for eight years—but I won't be eight years in getting out of it. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. . She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs.
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