CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his wishes, whether expressed or implied—would depart without consulting him, he was equally surprised and enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting her to the carriage. " "That kind of talk makes you sound like a white man. At second hand it would be unendurable. I defy you to explain it away. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. We can take our things up with us and stay at the Continental or the Ritz. NOW it’s just as though you had grown up suddenly. " "You flatter me," smiled Sir James. One only. "That depends upon what you call educated.
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