’ Too late he saw his error. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. “In a sense—yes. ‘I have said that I will tell you nothing of this soi-disant Valade. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. “My name is Anna Pellissier, sometimes called Annabel. Your fingers are even now as stiff as a schoolgirl’s. ” “But I’m quite equal to taking care of myself, aunt. I must bless him before I die.
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