Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. "Mother, I come to you. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. But he didn’t marry her. You're alone, too, child. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. You would not have the slightest difficulty. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. He only laughed his defiance. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. ” Annabel laughed hardly. ” “It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way.
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