Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. But there was a face pressed to the glass. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees.
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