"Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. “You think that this is all. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. “I—I am sorry—I didn’t explain. "He would return my letters unopened or destroy them. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog.
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