Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. She whipped round suddenly, and discovered the woman wedged into the corner by the window, keeping out of the way. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.
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