” “But how? It has only been a few days!” “She’s not even here. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. "Patience Kite has lured him to Enfield on a false scent after Blueskin. ’ ‘Don’t count on it.
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