‘Let me tell you,’ went on the nun severely, ‘it would have been better for you if you had taken the veil. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. “Oh, I can’t thank you. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. Now when I tell you exactly the truth, you will also not believe me. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone.
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