His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. “You don’t want to go?” “No. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. “I knew you wouldn’t mind. None presented themselves to save him from that return. And what took you to Remenham House?’ ‘I shall come to that presently,’ said Gerald cautiously. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned.
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