She bent down. “My name is Anna Pellissier, sometimes called Annabel. He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. ” She spoke with a certain asperity. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. Just an idea of mine.
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