And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. This is also the ragged edge of the world, too. You have friends, acquaintances, social standing, brothers and sisters, every advantage! Instead of which, you want to go to some mixed classes or other and cut up rabbits and dance about at nights in wild costumes with casual art student friends and God knows who. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. “Hello, Gwen!” said Ann Veronica, trying to put every one at their ease. ‘Jacques, you have been very much my friend. Every rule is against me—Why did I let you begin this? I might have told—” “I don’t see that you could help—” “I might have helped—” “You couldn’t. ” “Annabel Pellissier is married,” Courtlaw said quietly. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. "She considers her future blasted beyond hope.
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