She wedged the towel between her legs. Sister’s got married to that bounder Ferringhall. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. Determined, however, to conquer the feeling as soon as possible, Wood had given orders to have the evening meal served there; but, notwithstanding all his good resolutions upon his first entrance, he had much ado to maintain his self-command. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom.
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