The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. ” Anna stood up. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. The other must call a coach as quickly as he can. I want to enrich it with hangings and gladden it with verses.
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