” He said happily. “Your affectionate “FATHER. . Manning, I do not think I love you. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. Here again instinct guided her. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. ” “She invited me to dinner anyway. Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. “Annabel;” he moaned. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently.
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