She cried out his name in ecstasy. It was empty. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. She hit the villain with it. Smith obeyed. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. . “So far you’ve got me and I you. Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. ‘Difficult, I grant you.
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