” She replied. A fortnight passed, then a month. She understood. Do you have family that I should ask?” “Oh, Julian! No, my family is dead, lost. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. “Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded.
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