Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. A maidservant held the front door open. These things illuminated her situation extremely. It was hard to meet that gaze. The shot had taken effect upon the waterman who rowed the chase. The door to the library burst open. I don’t care! I’m glad I did. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. Women, she had been taught, who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in a special catagory of the damned. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. Michelle helped her mother clear the table and Lucy thanked her for the meal.
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