” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered. go. 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 laughed lightly. At length, I shall ascertain my name. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity.
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