As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. He has given orders that no one is to disturb him. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. The kindly American consul-general had himself taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her.
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