Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. "Bravo!" shouted Blueskin. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. Of course, I don't believe she's what you would call flush. That was an admission all right. My mother really wants to meet you. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. I thought you understood.
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