” Annabel shivered a little and looked around her. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. In this way (he informed Spurlock) he kept posted on what was going on in the strictly commercial world. I was in hopes you'd be content with my hat and wig.
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