It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do. He drew an awed breath. It was a different world. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. . “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. ” Chapter II THE ADVENTURE OF ANNABEL The man spoke mercilessly, incisively, as a surgeon. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side.
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