Q. Spurling," rejoined Ireton; "we can taste the rum when he returns. “This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. ‘Jacques, you have been very much my friend. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. He would go there. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. The doctor would never betray him.
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