"I've a good mind not to speak to you again, Sir!" cried Winifred, with difficulty repressing a tear of vexation; "you've acted unfairly. “For I know that you love Ennison. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. ’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm. “My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck.
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