"I have some difficulty in preventing myself from becoming your executioner. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. " Sir Rowland looked at her for a moment, as if he meditated some terrible reply. "It's very well you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with this confounded clothes'-bag. . ” Ann Veronica’s mind was filled with confused unutterable replies.
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