Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. She could think of nothing more to say. “It is strange that we should have met Annabel,” she said. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. ’ Looking round, she found the little coterie of soldiers crowded into the passage behind them. ” She said, rubbing Lucy’s back. “But I am your husband,” he said. But send me word.
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