‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. He initiated sex with her, lightly fingering her clitoris as an invitation. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. “It is strange that we should have met Annabel,” she said. I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child.
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