CHAPTER X. “I like your brother better than any other man I know,” Anna said at last. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. A post-chaise seen in the road first alarmed us. You say you love me and want to marry, but those are strong, potent words, words meant to last a lifetime. She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father.
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