Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. " "Then you will stay!" she cried, clapping her hands joyfully, "for I'm sure he won't part with you. "I'd lay down my life for yours. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. He's now in spring-ankle warehouse with Sir Rowland Trenchard. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor.
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