Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Where is Sir Rowland?" "In the library, your ladyship. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. It has been a real honeymoon trip, Annabel, for I feel that it has given me a wife. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. It’s like this: You want freedom. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard.
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