Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. It was Annabel who spoke. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. His brute strength surged through her veins, she could feel his energy in her heart, his life force stolen like candy from a baby. Ann Veronica intervened a little in the novelist discussion with a defence of Esmond and a denial that the Egoist was obscure, and when she spoke every one else stopped talking and listened. Her eye met his four inches away, and his was glaring, immense, and full of resolution, a stupendous monster of an eye. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair.
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