“You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. "Good-bye, young man; and good luck. When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. ’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. “About two years ago.
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