It was a purse. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. If anyone noticed, he did not report the event. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. ‘I do not know your Gérard. ” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf.
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