” He was suddenly resentful. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. ” He fumed. Prudence Remenham. Kneebone smiled assent. Luckily I’m not. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth.
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