Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. For a time they walked in silence. "Well," she said, as they reached the hotel portal, "what is your advice?" "Would you follow it?" "Probably not. Sheppard, passionately,—"he has my boundless gratitude, and devotion. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard.
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