There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. 'He that woos a maid',— fol-de-rol—(hiccupping). “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said. “Come right in,” he hissed under his breath, with the true conspirator’s note, closed the door very softly and pointed, “Through there!” By the meagre light of a gas lamp she perceived a cobbled yard with four large furniture vans standing with horses and lamps alight. Out of the beaten track! He must not appear too eager. Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs.
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