” She sniffled. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. She saw me, and, Lady Ferringhall, I shall never forget her look as long as I live. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. Annabel thought, and thought again. Living’s just material. Near by stood Ah Cum and the young unknown, the former protesting gently, the latter insistent upon his demands.
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