She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. Annabel believed it, came to England and married Sir John. She had heard the trader utter it many times. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. The future was not so black. She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt. ’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. Even were she to get an opportunity to scream, it would be some time before such a call, unprecedented though it might be, brought the nuns so much out of their absorption that they interrupted their prayer to investigate. A slender young man, wearing glasses, appeared from the shadow of the nearest van.
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