He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. For a time she brooded on the ideals and suggestions of the Socialists, on the vague intimations of an Endowment of Motherhood, of a complete relaxation of that intense individual dependence for women which is woven into the existing social order. The door to the library burst open. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. If the creator drew a hero anything like himself, she would accept it as a sign that he did care a little. " "Ha!" exclaimed Jack, drawing in his breath, and leaning forward with intense curiosity.
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