Jack tried it, and found it locked. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. Gerald tried it. “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. Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched.
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