” She wondered what to. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. Mr. Get on with it, then. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. ‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. “Of course it is, Anna. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. There was none. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. It was the first—and the last! At this juncture, the handle of the door was tried, and the voice of Mr.
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