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of an evening like this. You have actually given up a dinner-party to dine alone with me." "And made you give up a political meeting," she reminded him. "Quite an unimportant one," he assured her. "I would have given up anything to see you your old self again--as you are this evening." "I am afraid I have not been very nice," she said sadly. "Never mind. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes--as a sort of atonement." "I hope," he answered, looking at her in some surprise, "that we shall have many more such to think about." They were lingering over their dessert. The servants had left the room. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. "I am developing ailments," she said, meeting his questioning eyes. "It is nothing of any importance. John, I have something to say to you." "If you want to ask a favour," he remarked smiling, "you have made it almost impossible for me to refuse you anything." "I am going to ask more than a favour," she said slowly. "I am going to ask for your forgiveness." He was a little uneasy. "I do not know what you mean," he said, "but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I'm afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it." Annabel looked intently into her glass. "John," she said, "I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. I am very, very sorry, but you must listen to me." He relapsed into a stony silence. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. "You remember our first meeting?" "Yes," he answered hoarsely. "I remember it very well indeed. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child." She looked into her glass. "I was frightened then," she declared. "I am frightened now. But it is all very different. There was hope for me then. Now there is none. No, none at all." "You talk strangely, Anna," he said
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