In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. “You are talking like a boy. ” Annabel pulled up her veil. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know. She found herself talking to Capes in an undertone of rational admission. So Ruth found that for a while her eyes were free. Earles attended her obsequiously to the door.
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