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. ‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter. . “Annabel;” he moaned. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. “Unbelievable. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. I mean that it doesn’t interest you in itself. ‘But you said she was looking for proof. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. "I cannot break my vow.
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