Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. ’ About to hurry from the little parlour, Melusine remembered Mrs Ibstock. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. “I came directly I was disengaged,” Anna answered. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way.
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