. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. Lucy was sent reeling into a stone wall, which she hit with a great thud.
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