"I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. Her anger died and she eyed him. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. “I suppose, daddy, you’ve no objection to my going on with my work at the Imperial College?” she asked. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any.
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