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. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. The service began.
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