‘It were that there major, miss. . Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. ‘That is not your affair. “Mere sensuality. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. The operation was effected with so much rapidity and so little noise, that even if any one had been on the alert, he could scarcely have detected it. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. But what can we do? Here am I, fixed to respectability and this laboratory; you’re living at home. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. That is why I am here.
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