If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. “Promise. Would it be Thérèse?’ She shook her head. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. Nothing anyone could say or do would change him. Those I don’t mind, though, the games. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. . She had the same sharp nose—which, indeed, only Ann Veronica, of all the family, had escaped.
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