” “But what are you going to do—where are you going to live?” Annabel asked. Consent to become my wife, and do not compel me to have recourse to violence to effect my purpose, and I will spare your son. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. ” “I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she continued. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. I swear it. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor.
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