Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. . "Why, this is your writing Dolly, and addressed to Mr. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. ‘All this gadding about. My sister was scarcely likely to make a mistake. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. Nothing could occupy her attention long today, unless it concerned her situation. We will go to Ostend by the early morning boat and choose a hiding place from there. She was not allowed to bathe herself: another prisoner, with a privileged manner, washed her. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry.
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