“You’ve got my view,” he said, after a pensive second. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. And in that respect they stir up one another. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. Presently he heard her voice. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. In one grave, mind. For a while he threatened her.
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