But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. It's a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow. And I have seen work by his pupils myself that struck me as being—well, next door to shameful.
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