She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. "Well, well; look who's here!" cried Spurlock. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. Sebastian sat smirking in amusement. And now for the fawney— the ring I mean. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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