But Jack and his companion were already gone. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. We will get on with the agreement and you shall have in it whatever rubbish you like. I followed you home on the train. To be confronted with the girl’s damned Frenchman of a husband was another matter altogether. She had no place she loved. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared. “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this.
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