He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. "Plague on't!" added he: "I never meant to take your babby from you. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. Men ought not to idealize any woman. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. ” “I began to be afraid you might not come at all.
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