But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. No matter. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. In the upper hall he paused to listen. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. ” Anna nodded, and Mr. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered.
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