“The adventures I do not doubt, Annabel,” she said. No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. She acted as her mother had taught her to. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent. He seated himself before it.
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