The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. “Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. ’ Lucilla eyed him with one of those particularly feminine looks it was difficult for a mere male to interpret. I thought you might like to see.
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