“I don’t know. The man was mad to marry me. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. ” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. “Don’t come nearer!” she said. She cursed herself for a fool. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise.
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