Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. Ennison, who had been standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further into the room. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. Speak lower. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. Her father’s step quickened to a trot. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room.
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