Her thought spoke aloud. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. ‘Now then, Gerald, out with it. ‘Now I see why you’re marrying this woman, Hilary. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. ’ ‘Quite right, Gerald,’ approved Lucilla. "What for?" demanded Wood. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. They're on the forward lounge in the saloon. “Dear husband,” she murmured.
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