“I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. Do you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. You will observe that a coronet is embroidered on it.
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