And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. He waved a cordial goodbye. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. " "Not now—not now!" she returned, with a shudder. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. She had expected a love story; and love was totally absent. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. He bore it as long as he could, watching all the time with fascinated eyes Annabel moving gracefully about amongst her guests, always gay, with a smile and a whisper for nearly everybody.
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