97 “For what, kiddo?” Larry turned his head slightly to one side. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting. ” Annabel looked down. Conscience drove him to this side of the world, to this bed. Paris looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all others beside her seem plain or vulgar. “You are neither of you in the least like the ordinary boarding-house young man. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally.
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