He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. “No, it was simple. Anyhow, she’s disappeared for some reason or other. “Perhaps. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his. “The thing I feel most disposed to say, Miss Stanley,” he began at last, “is that this is very sudden. Perhaps she was. ” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. ‘Yes, that is what the nuns they said of me.
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