The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Are you now satisfied?" "No," interposed Wood, furiously, "I shall never be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. Now tell me, if you can, something about the man who calls himself Valade. " "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred. Ennison had disappeared. " "I am calm—quite calm, Rowland," she answered, with lips whose agitation belied her words. She twanged the catgut under her fingers.
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