Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. "I never wear false whiskers," went on O'Higgins. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. She had been going with a twenty-two year old man named Julian Rimbauer in secret. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. ” “That’s why, in a way, I’m prudish. If you owe your confinement to me, you shall owe your liberation to me, also. Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever.
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