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"You mistake,—you are mine. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. “Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows. Do look at this tragedy in mauve, who has just come in. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. I have come to take you home; and hereafter my word will be the law.
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