“Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. But this afternoon it discovered an unusual vein of irritability in her. “I have spoken too many truths to-night. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. I speak no harm of her. “I wonder what he will do?” She tried to imagine situations that might arise out of Ramage’s antagonism, for he had been so bitter and savage that she could not believe that he would leave things as they were.
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