‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed. ‘I should have thought it was obvious. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. I don’t suggest any philanthropy. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. " "Look here, my boy, that attitude is all damned nonsense. She began to feel odd sensations while peering busily at his shoulder and profile. “You are neither of you in the least like the ordinary boarding-house young man. " He patted her hand. " "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. He’s a footman who works for the nuns and has taken up the cudgels on her behalf. How are you?” “I’m fine,” she said, unaware of all events except for the voice on the other line.
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