Explore "A Son of Ishmael" by L.T. Meade on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The honeymoon was over; the four weeks all of pure gold had come slowly but surely to an end. Nancy had forgotten much during this time. The look of trouble, of anxiety, had absolutely left her face: it bloomed into greater and greater beauty in the new atmosphere. Rowton, too, appeared to be a different man. A great deal of his harshness and roughness had left him. He could be polished when he chose. In the early days of his life he had only associated with gentlemen; he was of good birth, and his natural breeding quickly re-asserted itself.
"You are just like a tamed lion," Nance was fond of saying to him. "You are so gentle to me; so courteous and kind to everyone, but I know -- "