The doctor laughed. It must have cut him. When first you left your home you had no idea that I was the hidden impulse. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. ‘Yes, only that this consolation he had found before he married my mother. Manning? I suppose there’s a sort of place like a ticket-office. Know that I love you, that I will always love you. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love.
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