"How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. ” He shook his head slowly, smiling mysteriously. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. ” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English Club on the following evening. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. You disgust me.
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