” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate. ” Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel. His blood would be sweet with it. When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick which he fetched and laid at her feet. The girl nodded sagely. May we not repeat them once, at any rate, in London? “Ever yours, “NIGEL ENNISON.
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