“Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. I think not, Annabel. A woman was born to have children, particularly male children. Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. She chuckled. Much to her annoyance, therefore, Winifred was left alone with the woollendraper, who following up a maxim of his own, "that nothing was gained by too much bashfulness," determined to profit by the opportunity. As she learned more and more of his knowledge, she began to realize how much faith and trust he invested in her.
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