“You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. But if you wouldn't have me positively dislike Jack Sheppard, you'll never mention such a subject again. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. This structure at once satisfied him as to where he stood. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house.
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