Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. Blue Ruin will do the job nicely. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. ‘She’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. Henceforth, I utterly throw off the yoke you have laid upon me. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether.
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