“You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. Befuddle yourself, if you want to. " "You'd better take care of your mother's son instead," rejoined Blueskin. My heart would speak if it could, for it is very full.
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