’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. But he reckoned without his host. Oh, Jack! repent, while it is yet time, of your evil conduct. 47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that.
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