She had never felt so cold, she felt even colder than she had in the water. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. I spent my fair share of time in the closet. I am safe while I am there, for I have had bolts fitted everywhere, and a pane of glass in the front door.
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