Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. ‘Home?’ ‘To your family. It's as well to be on the safe side. “Annabel;” he moaned. He paced faster, stomping around. No more scuffling. “I have a letter for you, and no end of messages. The blood will rest on your head. Ms. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort.
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