I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. Then, naturally, I went on talking. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate. He gave glimpses of possibilities. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy.
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