” Chapter XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED “You!” David Courtlaw crossed the floor of the dingy little sitting-room with outstretched hands. ’ The lady shook her head, contriving at the same moment to utter a breathy little laugh. You can scribble if you want to, but after you've given your eight hours daily to the mills. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence.
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