” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. ” “Don’t be shy, Lucy. ‘Parbleu, that pig, he will ruin all. The Master of the Mint. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that.
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