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Updated: May 16, 2025
Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?" she asked. "Don't befool me any more," he answered, almost roughly. "If any one should know you should! He was your friend. We were only les autres." "That is quite untrue," she declared cheerfully. "I certainly knew him no better than you." "Then he and Paris lied," Ennison answered. "That," she answered, "is far easier to believe.
"I'm damned if I'll believe it," he muttered to himself savagely. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week's leave from the Embassy. "Odd thing," Meddoes remarked, "we were just talking about the Pellissier girl.
Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. "Cheveney wouldn't have anything to say about it, as it happens," he remarked, a little grimly. "Ungracious little beast, I call her. I don't mind telling you chaps that except on the stage I haven't set eyes on her this side of the water. I've called half a dozen times at her flat, and she won't see me. Rank ingratitude, I call it."
Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself." "And if you are a millionaire like Drummond," someone remarked, "you send round a note and ask her to come out to supper." "In the present case," Drummond remarked, glancing across the room, "Cheveney wouldn't permit it." Ennison dropped the evening paper which he had been pretending to read.
Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. She was quite unconcerned. "Did you see who that was?" he asked in a low tone. "I did not recognize him," Anna answered. "I supposed that he took off his hat to you." "It was Cheveney!" he said slowly. "Cheveney!" she repeated. "I do not know any one of that name." He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him.
Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum." She laughed heartily, and became as suddenly grave. "So Mr.
The other kicked over the traces a bit, made rather a hit with her singing at some of those French places, and went the pace in a mild, ladylike sort of way. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. If she's over, he probably knows all about it." Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. "So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?" he remarked.
They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. "I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate," someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair.
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