Would that a certain major might cast upon her such a look. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. He bore it as long as he could, watching all the time with fascinated eyes Annabel moving gracefully about amongst her guests, always gay, with a smile and a whisper for nearly everybody. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon.
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