Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. “I’ll buy a new one. Remember, some day you and I are going to have that book. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. 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. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. ’ Gerald tutted. ‘But that is easy. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote.
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