“Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. " "Indeed!" said Shotbolt. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. He said that for him beauty justified life, that he could not imagine a good action that was not a beautiful one nor any beautiful thing that could be altogether bad. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. ” Annabel, who was looking very well, and who was most becomingly dressed, moved to a seat from which she could command a view of the road outside. She struggled fiercely not to give way. I don’t know. I believed that our marriage was genuine.
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