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My feelings overpower me. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. ” The talk was animated, and remained always brilliant in form even when it ceased to be brilliant in substance. “Indeed, no,” he answered. “It was a phase,” she said. " "Indeed!" said Shotbolt.
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