She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. " Taking the keys, he led the way, followed by Jonathan, who chuckled internally at the shock that awaited the poor fellow. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. " "Degrade herself," rejoined Jonathan, brutally. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement.
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