“I must read him when I come out. " "Very well, Sir," replied Sheppard. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Ennison spoke at last. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears.
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