Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. . A nine days’ wonder is soon forgotten. Never before had any human being kissed her lips. “You are mistaken, David. Her thick body was heavy and massive. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days.
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