” “It was behind the Place de Vendome, on the other side from the Ritz. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. The signs of the shops were carried to incredible distances. And look down, so. We all get deceived sometimes. ” He said as they parted company. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. In the present case it did not matter, as there was no one else within earshot. Anna watched her with curious eyes. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. He returned to the car, Cokes in hand. "How long shall I be here?" he asked. .
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