"Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. “You were talking to that fellow Ramage to-day—in the Avenue. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. ’ Gerald suppressed a grin. ‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. “You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Lucy entered the house by picking the back door lock with the slim jim.
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