Prison was beastly. “Marriage certificates don’t tell lies, at any rate,” he said. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. They crossed the Park to the westward, and then turned back and walked round the circle about the Royal Botanical Gardens and then southwardly toward Waterloo. Annabel was in hiding all the time. ’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. No more scuffling.
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