Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. Her mind developed into savage wrath at the present conditions of a woman’s life. ’ ‘But—’ ‘You’ll get her all over blood again. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. After the twins were past the toddling age, Clotilde finally caught on when the children cleaved to Lucia’s breast when it was time to leave for a fortnight abroad.
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