It was a unique experience for her to wash him. It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. “Call me Annabel. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. “I shan’t eat him.
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