’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth. It wasn't worth while to invest imaginatively a man with evil projects simply because he was physically ugly. . She opened her eyes. A world of haystacks, bean-stacks, and strawricks flanked the granges adjoining his habitation; the yard was crowded with poultry, pigeons were feeding at his feet, cattle were being driven towards the stall, horses led to the stable, a large mastiff was rattling his chain, and stalking majestically in front of his kennel, while a number of farming-men were passing and repassing about their various occupations.
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