“I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. "I've lost my wager. Running his hand carefully over it in search of the lock, he perceived to his dismay that it was fastened on the other side. He was silent. That's a queer yarn. I don’t want you to talk to me now. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head.
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