After all, it is not long since that a Catholic nun in this country would have had to remain in hiding. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. The knight mechanically complied with his request. She frowned, appearing to think for a moment. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. ‘What now?’ ‘Now,’ she answered flatly, ‘you will please to tell me at once why you have come here. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. “Sold again,” she remarked. I love you—with all my heart and soul.
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