He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. But these fears, like those he had recently experienced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to the roof, congratulating himself that owing to the opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all probability escaped serious injury. They were exquisite. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. But he did not follow on with the thought. “No, I’m fine. ” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea. They are tending to congregate, our poor French friends.
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