“I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at such an unseemly hour. By instinct. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. I know what I am talking about. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. Some of your sex, I mean. Save my seat. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. Love, obliterated, annihilated; out of his heart and out of his Bible. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish.
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