Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. “You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. I’ll get in trouble. I can’t stand it. All this juncture, a thundering crash was heard against the side of the bridge. She was correct, and when I went directly to the street she had named, there you were, walking into the Butcher Shop. She could think of nothing more to say. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. “I shall never marry,” said Ann Veronica, resolutely; “I’m not the sort. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words.
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