"Sir Cecil is no more. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. ” Anna was a little puzzled, but she only laughed. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. There was a very white-faced youngster of eighteen who brushed back his hair exactly in Russell’s manner, and was disposed to be uncomfortably silent when he was near her, and to whom she felt it was only Christian kindness to be consistently pleasant; and a lax young man of five-and-twenty in navy blue, who mingled Marx and Bebel with the more orthodox gods of the biological pantheon. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. Give me that precious charge," he added, snatching the bundle from Wood. She colored faintly. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman.
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