” Sir John smiled and congratulated himself upon his insight. I followed you home on the train. " "Now for it," thought the woollen-draper, "I shall, at least, ascertain how the land lies. If you don’t think it would be a social outrage, perhaps I might walk with you to your railway station. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical. I don't believe his name is Taber. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. And yet he knew that his skill was equal to that of any fashionable practitioner in Hong-Kong.
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