Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. Adventure rules, and morality—looks up the trains in the Bradshaw. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. Horrible doubts assailed her.
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