"He will kill me," cried Thames. Then a surge of rage welled up. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. Her mouth was an effective tourniquet. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. ToC Sir Rowland, meantime, paced his chamber with a quick and agitated step. On the Day he had trumpet-like outbreaks of cordiality, varied by a watchful preoccupation. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man.
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