She had to explain about and pay off that forty pounds. “I shall be waiting for you there, and in the meantime, if you will help yourself—pray don’t look like that. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. Some of the people who watched them standing side by side thought they must be newly wedded because of their happy faces, and others that they were an old-established couple because of their easy confidence in each other. Wood brought up.
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