Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. “There I can’t help,” said Capes. ” She caressed his cheek seductively with her left palm and he closed his eyes in dreamy anticipation. ” Anna shivered a little. . . ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. But I expect him back every minute. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. I don’t love you. . ’ ‘Then they are soldiers.
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