Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. Everything in this world changed—except human folly. “That’s it,” she said. She is in the hall now. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other. An avid reader in many genres, I love to share books that have given me much pleasure.
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