1703. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. She would be extraordinarily interesting as a metaphysical study. ‘What is it that you told him?’ ‘Nothing, miss, I swear. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. Ann Veronica tried to seem absolutely unconcerned. " "I will.
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