If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. Good-bye, aunt. “Does he know that I am involved with someone?” “Of course he knows. “Yes,” she answered, looking away. God gives us an equal chance; but we make ourselves. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life.
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