” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English Club on the following evening. But he was always forcing her to say and do such unexpectedly conclusive things. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew. The major hailed him with a show of relief. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured.
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