Perhaps I deceived you about it. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. ‘Get the swords!’ ‘I’ll see to him. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. She was with these movements—akin to them, she felt it at times intensely—and yet something eluded her. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so.
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