“I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town. . “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this. He brought his mother to call, and as you know the Countess goes scarcely anywhere. En tout cas, no one has asked you to puzzle out anything at all. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. “But how can you?” asked Constance. “Annabel at last,” he shouted.
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