What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. Everybody, he felt, must be listening behind their papers. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. Wood's ornaments and wearing apparel, they prepared to depart. "That'll teach you to keep a civil tongue in your head for the future," observed Thames, as he helped Jack to his feet. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. He yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused.
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