The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. “My friends,” she said, “my dear friends, I am going to make the same answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at all. ” She said with a smile. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. “I will not ask you to explain further. "All's bowman, my covey. "You repeated the word 'Fool' over and over. ” She raised her eyebrows. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife.
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