Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. It would have been a crisis anyhow, but it was complicated in Ann Veronica’s mind by the fact that a letter lay on the breakfast-table from Mr. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. My father thought the latter. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed.
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