The Ragged Edge. Then Gosse spoke again, answering the question in her mind. “I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. But I will never—never return.
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