But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. They WERE, she realized, acutely beautiful things. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there. ’ ‘Gammon!’ burst from the captain, who had just tossed off a glass of Madeira. And if he would, I would not subject him to the annoyance. She decided to leave this matter until the morrow and devote the morning to settling up with Mr.
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