A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. “I was lonely. “Yes. . I didn’t betray you, I swear I didn’t. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. “How did you find me?” She asked. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked.
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