" Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. But it's French manners, I suppose. The future Mrs Roding turned bright, laughing eyes on the major. CHAPTER XXI. ’ ‘Damn you, answer me!’ Her eyes flashed. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening.
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