“How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. ” “Quite. Not much to his surprise, Jack Kimble shook his head. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. My engagement at the ‘Garrick’ terminates Saturday week, and then I am free. Melusine gritted her teeth. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. ’ ‘But it’s my affair, Melusine.
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