Above all, beware of Sir Rowland Trenchard. Prison was beastly. She stared at him. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. " "I'll give you something better worth keeping," she answered, detaching the ornament from her neck, and presenting it to him; "this contains a lock of my hair, and may remind you sometimes of your little sister. He had, however, planned brilliant careers for his two sons, and, with a certain human amount of warping and delay, they were pursuing these. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. Two persons possessing a more comfortable stock of assurance could not be readily found.
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