Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. I have only just left Wych Street. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. All men are bloody fucking hypocrites. “I know. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, these two must epitomise it. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face.
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