‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. Tell him the truth, Annabel. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. The doors of several of the wards were thrown open for these parties, and as Jack passed, he could not help glancing at the wretched inmates. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. “Won’t you have some more tea, Mr. ” “Your husband,” he answered bluntly.
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