” So only a few minutes after Ennison’s departure, while Anna stood indeed with her sister’s open letter still in her hand, Courtlaw drove up in hot haste. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. ‘Parbleu, but I find that this is excessively clever, this passage. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. “What has she told you?” “Everything. Nigel Ennison, Annabel.
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