"That's the whole difficulty. ” “A—marriage certificate!” Annabel gasped. The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. Placing a piece of money in Morgan's hands, he hurried out of the churchyard.
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