"Bravo!" cried the thief-taker approvingly. “It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. ‘Typical. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor.
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