Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. He glanced up at the coachman. ’ ‘You’re going?’ asked his friend, and the note of relief was marked. ” Again on his way homeward from Cavendish Square he abandoned the direct route to pass by the door of Anna’s flat. “Annabel;” he moaned. I find it impossible to associate you with—my little friend of the ‘Ambassador’s.
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