" "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. ” Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion. The girl in the forward chair raised herself a little, the better to see the gorgeous blue palanquin of the dimly visible bride. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. "You're inquisitive, young gentleman," replied Jackson, coldly.
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