“My dear Annabel,” she said, “this is delightful, but I thought that it was forbidden. “Do tell me all about it. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. ” The official had no more to say. His grip twisted her wrist. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. And, stretching out his hand, he lifted the dark object from the flood. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone.
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