“Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. Ants. That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. The McCloskeys had only boys, two that were off in the Service and one that was full grown and had moved down South. Great sport, eh? To haul them back from the ragged edge. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. I am sure he would go with you.
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