" "Delay the marriage till then. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. “I did not,” Anna answered. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. Oh, what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order. I’ve got too much work. Sheppard, hastily; "is that the name?" "Ay, ay, now I look again it is Trenchard. Then he remembered that she was Anna’s sister. I love my husband.
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