There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. He did not even care for his own inheritance at this place in Wodeham Water. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well.
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