” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. That’s the wonder of it. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. ’ ‘I swear to you, it is the exact truth,’ he protested.
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