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‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. It was a pity people had to eat food. “I did,” Anna answered. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. Wood dandled his little charge to and fro, after the most approved nursery fashion, essaying at the same time the soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to the occasion; but, failing in his design, he soon lost all patience, and being, as we have before hinted, rather irritable, though extremely well-meaning, he lifted the unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so much good will, that he had well-nigh silenced him most effectually.
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