Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. “Thanks, I’m not very fond of coffee,” Anna answered, “and I hate music. 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. Why don’t you go in? Charvill is there. "Heaven has decreed it otherwise," replied the knight, dejectedly. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence.
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