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. “Mary!” He whispered loudly. John knew better. She remembered the doctor's warning that the real battle would begin when the patient recovered consciousness. Except for one memorable school excursion to Paris, Ann Veronica had never yet been outside England. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned.
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