That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. " "Order those who choose to obey you," rejoined the lady scornfully. "I give you all of my genius, and you say—'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog. So go up-stairs and get your things together while I look out for a hansom. Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. To this Jack replied, that he should be perfectly contented, provided he might have a small allowance of gin.
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