I had not seen the courtyard in many years and I was happy to dream of those times. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. . ’ Gerald gazed at her without expression. “I’m sorry. ” Annabel looked down. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern.
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