Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. I like you very much, I haven’t known you enough to love you, no matter how worthy you are of love. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below.
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