” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. How much he would be able to do for her. Neither father, aunt, nor brothers made a sign, and then one afternoon in early February her aunt came up in a state between expostulation and dignified resentment, but obviously very anxious for Ann Veronica’s welfare. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. “You see the pointer?” he asked.
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