’ Her breath tightened and she was obliged to control an inner ferocity. ’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. These and her general preparations had perhaps a certain disproportion. “Have you much ability?” asked Ann Veronica. That was supposed to be Madame Valade. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. She had never had a real doll.
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