His face fell. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. “Lucy, that is so sad. “—but this cannot be. By this time, Jonathan and the vast mob attending him, had come up, and the place was rendered almost as light as day by the links. ’ His colour deepened. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. 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. \" It was Michelle's kind way of implying that Lucy's loose black Tshirt and baggy dungarees were unflattering. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped.
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