It was her past now, not Annabel’s. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. . More often then not he refused to reveal specifics of his own past in Greece and Rome, choosing to relate fables and stories of an impersonal nature. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. His age was not far from fifty. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. You ought to have had better advice two years ago. Only a few, but enough for me to understand that some act had driven you to this part of the world, where the hunted hide. He recognised Anna, and at once addressed her. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you.
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