Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. All superfine holland. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. “Will you come in, Sir John. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions. ” “That’s the comfort of you. " "What is it?" asked the poor woman. . Never sent for the shirt. ” “I’ll wait, then. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest.
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