“There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time. . The thought of going back!—the thought of the unknown out there!—" with a tragic gesture toward the east. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. I like the way you shared it. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling.
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