Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. ’ ‘No, perhaps not,’ Gerald agreed with a smile. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. "You will not hesitate to break it, if it suits your purpose. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments.
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