He came along, he said, just to call, with large, loud apologies, radiantly kind and good. “Hainault was Celeste’s friend, and Celeste was Annabel’s enemy,” Courtlaw said. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. “TROUSERS!” she whispered. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. We want it badly at the present time. After a little further discourse the old man took his departure.
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