She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. They order me to get my man, and I get him. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. The child was now within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. I’m sorry.
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