The actual danger was lost sight of in these wild apprehensions; and many timorous beings were scared beyond reason's verge by the excess of their fears. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. Wood. And it's uncanny. His arm closed in around her middle and she was caught. Mr. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. Selling out of the Army to take up his inheritance had spelled boredom to Gerald Alderley.
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