“Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. I didn’t understand. ” She massaged him. It is not at all what I expected either. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned. “Girls of sixteen do not need their own laundry hampers. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me. " She kindled with sympathy. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his wishes, whether expressed or implied—would depart without consulting him, he was equally surprised and enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting her to the carriage. Then suddenly with a rush came reality, came “growing up”; a hasty imperative appeal for seriousness, for supreme seriousness. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. “Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother.
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