Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. I miss her a lot. Thus, in a few minutes, had this happy family been plunged into the depths of misery. “Why will you not be sensible? Go back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris and this absurd delusion of yours. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary.
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