It would not have been for her an anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. Gerald would not marry her even with a dowry. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. She was watching him intently. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. A cold shiver came over her.
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