“Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below. ’ She gave him a straight look. 32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. " "I'm sorry. No tricks would serve. “Let me see,” he said. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face.
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