Have you anything to tell me before you go?” Annabel laughed lightly. Were the parents agreeable? Were they of age? Had the license been procured? But here, in a far country, only the velvet manacles of wedlock were necessary. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. ’ ‘But what age are you? Do you not require an heir?’ Melusine asked, her tone shocked. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it.
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