He was not able to recognize, as the doctor did, that she was only a natural woman. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. Annabel a murderess! It was not possible. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. It was as if her aesthetic sense had become inflamed. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. “We parted— that night the best of friends. It is not a dissipated face. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends.
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