When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. We had such a pride in you, such hope in you. ‘You dare to come to me? What do you wish of me? Why have you come? I do not want you!’ She swept round on Gerald abruptly and he braced for the onslaught. "I've just recollected that my husband left a key with me, which he charged me to give you when I could find an opportunity. Had this not been the case, he must have refused even to see his Frenchified granddaughter. In that sense, my strategy worked. " He departed, musing. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it.
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