” “How absurd!” Annabel declared. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. "Sit beside me," continued Mrs. " "Can I have a word with you, master?" said Sheppard, approaching Wood. Answering him was agonizing. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. "If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. "No!" she cried. Now I know that you don’t live as close to the Beck house as you once pretended.
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