She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. “You don’t want to go?” “No. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. "Back!" he cried fiercely. I worshipped her and subdued myself. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. “You are mistaken, David.
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