But Michelle’s heart seemed to grow fonder to the subject proportionally to Lucy’s avoidance of it. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. He pressed his lips to her with a much greater force than she had anticipated. ’ ‘Very good, ma’am.
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