She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. V. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. "I eat for both.
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