"So much the worse," replied Jonathan, rising and taking a turn, as if uncertain what to do. But after that it was easy. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. The other kicked over the traces a bit, made rather a hit with her singing at some of those French places, and went the pace in a mild, ladylike sort of way. One of her duties, after she had been taught to read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to bed. There was nothing to be learned from her face.
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