Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Corporation. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. “I want to make love for the first time tonight. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service.
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