She stood there limply and did not act to resist him. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. The oaken beam, nine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most formidable obstacle to his flight. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests.
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