’ The lad Kimble moved swiftly to the door and walked out of the room. She had never been so happy to vomit. “Why?” he asked, suavely. Out of the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence.
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