“The adventures I do not doubt, Annabel,” she said. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. He was an odd one, especially for a young man. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish.
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