There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. She felt she had to go on. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. That would be myself, or if she lived, Mary’s daughter. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. "Arrest!" vociferated Wood. And it is not at all his affair. "You were a little out of your head. Sydney was watching her eagerly. She passed down the stairs and into the street. That knot also would be cut. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald.
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