" "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. No matter what the fire and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes out. But he told me this much, that no matter how far Mr. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. ‘You have no idea how dull the militia is compared to the Army. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers.
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