" Thames tried to answer her, but his voice failed him. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. In this part of the world it is wise never to be separated from your luggage. Despite him, it was the beauty that she had inherited from her mother they had used to gain the betrothal, and it had not been easy. She must not show anything. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. She hoped desperately that Mrs. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn.
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