But shortly this movement ceased. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. ” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. " The answer to this request was a "smack" of a very different description, bestowed upon Sheppard's outstretched face by the little damsel, as she ran out of the room. ‘Difficult, I grant you. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. "I know you'll not deceive me. A curious silence ensued.
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