” “Never,” he exclaimed vehemently. ” “You are willing to give up your position, your beautiful houses, your carriages and milliner’s accounts to come back to Bohemianism?” “Why not?” Annabel declared. Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. “Look here, Ann Veronica,” he began. Or run me through. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another.
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