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Updated: June 14, 2025
Her eyes were wide open with amazement. "Mr. Ennison!" He released her. "Good God!" he exclaimed. "Who are you Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?" Anna laughed. "If it is a choice between the two," she answered, "I must be Annabel Pellissier. I am certainly no ghost." "You have her face and figure," he muttered. "You have even her name.
"Cheer up, Annabel. You were never married at all. That place was closed by the police last month. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. Everything was done in the most legal and imposing way, but the whole thing was a fraud." "Then I was never married to him at all?" Annabel said. "Never but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape," Ennison exclaimed.
"What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?" he answered fiercely. Ennison looked down on him in disgust. "You silly fool," he said. "I know nothing about your wife. The young lady I was with is not married at all. Why don't you make sure before you rush out like that upon a stranger?" "You were with my wife," Hill repeated sullenly. "I suppose you're like the rest of them.
"I am bored," she said abruptly. "This is a very foolish sort of entertainment. And, as usual," she continued, a little bitterly, "I seem to have been sent along with the dullest and least edifying of Mrs. Montressor's guests." Ennison glanced at the other people in the box and smiled. "I got your note just in time," he remarked.
Do you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. Our land brings us in nothing. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their business, and in return we ask them to dinner. By-the-bye, have you seen this new woman at the 'Empire'? What is it they call her 'Alcide?" "Yes, I have seen her," Ennison answered.
"Forgive my coming in," she said to Ennison. "I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty. What is the matter with you?" Dunster had withdrawn discreetly. Ennison's manner was certainly not one of a willing host. "I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall," he said quietly. "For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a moment. Dunster shall fetch you a cab.
Only last night she saw me, and there was horror in her eyes.... I have written, called of what avail is anything against that look.... What the devil is the matter, Dunster?" "I beg your pardon, sir," the man answered, "there is a lady here to see you." Ennison turned round sharply. "A lady, Dunster. Who is it?" The man came a little further into the room. "Lady Ferringhall, sir."
"Well, he was presumptuous," Annabel remarked, "and he wasn't nice about it. I wonder how it is," she added, "that boys always make love so impertinently." Ennison laughed softly. "I wonder," he said, "how you would like to be made love to boldly or timorously or sentimentally." "Are you master of all three methods?" she asked, stopping her fanning for a moment to look at him.
She forgot Anna's sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister's shoulders. She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. Anna was singing as she used to sing. She was chic, distinguished, unusual. What right had she to call herself "Alcide"? It was abominable, an imposture. Ennison listened, and he forgot where he was.
"You see, her sister is married to Ferringhall, isn't she? and she herself must be drawing no end of a good screw here. I always say that it's poverty before everything that makes a girl skip the line." Ennison escaped. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms.
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