" "Don't mind us, Ma'am," said Mr. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. Gerald sighed. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms.
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