" "In what way, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, in astonishment. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. Why may I not be your friend? Somehow or other I feel that you have been driven into a false position. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. She aimed directly at Rhea’s head. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said.
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