Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. It was not a long prayer. " "How!" ejaculated Trenchard, starting back and drawing his sword. . Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. It was she—— Anna’s nerves were not easily shaken, but she found herself suddenly clutching at the table for support. Not alone with her, that’s sure. The door leaned inward.
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