“Good-bye, John,” she said simply. ” She picked at her sandwich idly. " For a long time after O'Higgins had gone the doctor rocked in his swivel chair, his glance directed at the map. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. Likely as not outside the law, too. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. ” “He imposed on me,” Annabel continued.
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