“Indeed,” she said, “it was very fortunate that I should have met you this afternoon. Either Sydney or Mr. Brendon always comes home with me, and to-night both are away. Mary is very good, but she is too nervous to be the slightest protection.”
“I am very glad,” he answered, in a low tone. “It has been a delightful evening for me.”
“And for me,” Anna echoed.
A curious silence ensued. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted.
“It is strange that we should have met Annabel,” she said. “I am afraid your broken dinner engagement will not be so easy to explain.”
He was very indifferent. In fact he was thinking of other things.
“I am going,” he said, “to be impertinent. I do not understand why you and your sister should not see more of one another. You must be lonely here with only a few men friends.”
She shook her head.
“Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. Besides—there is Sir John.”
“Sir John is an ass!” he declared.