"To-night you shall be my wedded wife. But no; she must step warily. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. Attempts were made upon the door of the Lodge; but it was too strong to be forced. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of.
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