” Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. " Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber.
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