“I think—we all think that she is wonderful. To that, perhaps, a large part of its satisfyingness was due. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow. " "Who cares if we do?" retorted Sheppard, with a look of defiance. But she was only able to save a corner of the letter.
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