“Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. I wanted to have something to give up. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. Wood, in equal trepidation. Which, let me assure you, villain, will not be so far away. Altogether different. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. 216 “Please, get dressed.
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