The performance over, he relaxed and closed his eyes. Annabel entered. She struggled against it quite uselessly. Nothing seemed to be amiss. She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. Mr. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. I know how bad it feels. "You will not make it valueless in my eyes," he added, catching her in his arms, and pressing her to his breast.
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