“Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. It must have cut him. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. A crisis of some kind was toward. “My dear Annabel,” she said, “this is delightful, but I thought that it was forbidden. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. ‘Certainly I have them with me. He loves the Mendelians because he hates all the big names of the eighties and nineties. “Bother it all!” she swore. Wood scarcely knew where he was. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence.
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