It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. What are you going to tell me?" "Nothing. Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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