“It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. “I should like to understand you,” he said. Mrs. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. “Put her in the trunk. She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the pencils, curiously stirred. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter.
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