We shall take an eternal farewell of each other. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. He now tells her that she is free, no longer a slave. “And yet I do it without compunction. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. Then, naturally, I went on talking.
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