I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. Mr. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. Then she would be dead, and that was no use. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. “Do I understand you then to refuse my offer?” he asked Anna. Lucia liked the doctor though, and he seemed to be very fond of her too.
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