Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. "I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child.
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