He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. She tried to be casual. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. . “Annabel?” he exclaimed. ” She looked at him doubtfully. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. ’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that.
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