Good night. “I have been bearing this—for your sake. I hope I may never come near her. Anna sent her away. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his. ” For a moment she was grave. “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. It isn’t such fun as it seems. ” Her answer was terse. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. She held out her hand frankly.
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