"There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. But we wished to ascertain whether Mrs. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. ” He did not move. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. He picked up the remote and sat himself to her right. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. ’ There was a pause.
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