Accepting his glass from the butler, Gerald glanced at Mrs Sindlesham and saw a dimple peep out. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. “The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name. Earles glanced at it, and his eyes flashed with anger.
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