He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. You, Anna, are one of them. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. Kneebone, on his return from Manchester.
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