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"Is it poison?" she asked. Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. ” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. I had rather have trouble and hardship like that than be taken care of by others. .
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