She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. Salvation. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. This was occasioned by Jonathan Wild, who was seen to mount his horse and join the train. ” There was genuine interest in her eyes now. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. "Now, step this way, Mr. "I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily.
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