‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. “Come this way,” he said. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. "Give me your thorough-paced villain. It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life.
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