Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. She began to think persistently of Capes, and it seemed to her now that for some weeks at least she must have been thinking persistently of him unawares. “There were some Hampshire Pellissiers. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. He noted the strong white teeth as they snipped the thread. Were any thing to happen to him, Newgate wouldn't be what it is, nor Tyburn either. She no more realizes what she has done than a child of eight.
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