He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened him to that crafty animal, and it must be owned the general formation of his features favoured such a comparison. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. She had slapped him away with her free hand and the finger was released suddenly, sending her careening to the floor. "We must change the subject," remarked Thornhill, pausing in his task; "this will never do.
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