There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. ” “But is that really so?” said Ann Veronica. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. Only I do not care to write about anything else. " "Somebody coming?" "Yes. CHAPTER XII. ” There was never any shortage of bad men to eat, especially with pestilence and superstition to cover their tracks. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. I only want to know the truth, and I will move heaven and earth to have it set aside. “Yes. ” Ann Veronica reflected for an instant “That’s why I think I ought to come. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715.
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