“Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. He would read the jokes and illustrate them; and after a time I could see the point of a joke without having it explained to me. He would provide the necessities of life and protect her. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes.
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