"I think," she said, "that I rather like what you have said. Don't be afraid to go on thinking it. Even though I am going to sing at the 'Unusual' you may find that the 'Alcide,' whom you knew in Paris does not exist any more. At the same time," she added, in a suddenly altered tone, "it isn't anything whatever to do with you, is it?" "Why not?" he answered. "You permitted me then to call you my friend. I do not intend to allow you to forget." They passed a man who stared at them curiously. Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. She was quite unconcerned. "Did you see who that was?" he asked in a low tone. "I did not recognize him," Anna answered. "I supposed that he took off his hat to you." "It was Cheveney!" he said slowly. "Cheveney!" she repeated. "I do not know any one of that name." He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him. Her eyes were wide open with amazement. "Mr. Ennison!" He released her. "Good God!" he exclaimed. "Who are you--Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?" Anna laughed. "If it is a choice between the two," she answered, "I must be Annabel Pellissier. I am certainly no ghost." "You have her face and figure," he muttered. "You have even her name. Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman--you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum." She laughed heartily, and became as suddenly grave. "So Mr. Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?" she asked. "Don't befool me any more," he answered, almost roughly. "If any one should know----you should! He was your friend. We were only--_les autres_." "That is quite untrue," she declared cheerfully. "I certainly knew him no better than you." "Then he--and Paris--lied," Ennison answered. "That," she answered, "is far easier to believe. You are too credulous." Ennison had things to say, but he looked at her and held his tongue. They turned the last corner, and almost immediately a man who had been standing there turned and struck Ennison a violent blow on the cheek. Ennison reeled, and almost fell. Recovering himself quickly his instinct of self-defence was quicker than his recollection of Anna's presence. He struck out from the shoulder, and the man measured his length upon the pavement. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. Brendon and Courtlaw who had been watching for her, met her at the door. She pointed across the road. "Please go and see that--nothing happens," she pleaded. "It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight," Brendon exclaimed, as he hastened across the street. Hill sat up on the pavement and mopped the blood from his cheek. Ennison's signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone.