I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. "By the powers!" he added, turning his lantern full upon the face of the captive, "he's a nice gennteel-lookin' kiddy, I must say. Hope reared. He saw it in book-covers, on the stage. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands, he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child.
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