A brief calm succeeded. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. She pushed him gently on the chest. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. Ann Veronica looked up at him and found him regarding her with eyes that were almost woebegone, and into which, indeed, he was trying to throw much more expression than they could carry. Here, put it on your finger. ” “Oh!” said Ann Veronica. If he got her outside, surely the soldiers would see her and intervene. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Then, in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and security.
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