White’s surprise as she swung easily down the room, followed by the two young men, she smiled a careless explanation at her. ‘You’ve cause to be grateful to Gerald, then. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. And also she didn’t like them. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. She obeyed, extending her arm. " [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Corporation. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things.
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