He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. “Hola, Michelle. Hot coffee and cakes were sent in to them in the morning by some intelligent sympathizer, or she would have starved all day. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. She did not wince. I would be too 222 busy protecting you. . ‘What, is Nicholas dead?’ He saw the two of them exchange glances and an instinct of danger rose up. An ancient smile lay on his lips.
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