‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. What isn’t a day-dream is this: that you and I are going to put an end to flummery—and go!” “Go!” said Ann Veronica, clenching her hands. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door.
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