She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. I was quite as much annoyed as you were to see Mr. Have you ever voted, Mr. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. ’ ‘You mean I need not have said it? Damnation. ‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle.
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