"You begin to have doubts, eh? A handful of money between you, and nothing else. Here's your health in a bumper, and wishing you a better husband than your first. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. ” His voice rose and fell amidst the music and the singing of Tristan and King Mark, like a voice heard in a badly connected telephone. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair.
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