” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. "What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at lunch?" Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him. "I'm not worth it. She will tell you all the story while I am gone. His attention drawn, the captain was easily able to make out the pretty features under the feathered hat, and the same dark riding habit the fugitive had worn on that first occasion at Remenham House. She tore open the envelope and read it. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her. It really isn’t so easy to go as it seems. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate.
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