” Annabel’s hand stole into his. He had something across his knees. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. It had neither succumbed to her nor wrathfully overwhelmed her. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes.
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