” Annabel’s hand stole into his. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. Unexpectedly he found himself speeding toward the father. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. And when Mr.
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