Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. It was no use. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. You will only make me hurt you the more. Quite soon, after we were married—it was just within a year—I formed a friendship with the wife of a friend, a woman eight years older than myself. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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