‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. Farewell. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat.
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