A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. It’s not you—not a bit. “As a matter of fact, I deserve to. She had made her first fight for dignity and freedom as a grown-up and independent Person, and this was how the universe had treated her. Whatever happened she need never return to that possibility.
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