And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. ‘You said?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on.
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