His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1. He asked her whether she understood what she was saying, and went on to say still more precisely that she should never touch a penny of his money until she came home again—not one penny. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. Lord knew why he had any interest in an impertinent girl who would certainly have spit him with that dagger! He reached into his pocket and brought it out, examining it in the increasing light as he slowly made his way back up the terrace. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland.
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