“You may find in it a paragraph of some interest to you. "Don't go, I beg of you!" she implored. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. ’ ‘But I can’t leave you, miss. ’ As a matter of fact, I am not. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. Then she looked up at Brendon. No doubt they've all been rejected; but he couldn't throw them overboard. Winifred, accordingly, left the room, and a servant being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. ’ ‘I have found Mary Remenham’s daughter,’ he repeated. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face.
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