\" She waved. "Good-bye, young man; and good luck. ‘Not here. Used to play together, we did, all over Remenham House. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. ” She thought more and more along that line. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. “I hope that you are going to allow me to see something of you during your stay in London, for the sake of old times. He cannot. But it is the truth.
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