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” Anna was not late, but her heart sank within her when she entered the drawingroom. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. They stopped talking, except to each other. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. I have found you. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. “I do mean that,” she declared.

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