132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. ” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. Not fit to be dust on your boots. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. Her teachers and mistresses had done their best to stamp her mind with an ineradicable persuasion that it was tremendously important, and on no account to be thought about. "Now your curiosity's satisfied, child," continued Kneebone, "perhaps, you'll attend to my orders. And then her pace slackened.
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