She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. “Annabel, I begin to see why you are here. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. ” Anna had suddenly stiffened. Then the long lashes sank demurely over them. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook.
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