8. Now, will you do me the honour of lunching with me, Miss Pellissier?” Anna hesitated. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief. “He just wants to get laid, you know. He told me that he was a millionaire.
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