Lucy knocked again. Annabel entered. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. But it was hopelessly hard to put. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. ” “I don’t care how we meet,” she said. "Very well. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace.
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