“What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. "You're a bold fellow, Jack," rejoined the blacksmith. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. She had just passed into a little antechamber beyond when she suddenly heard a faint knocking. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. “Our marriage must be annulled. You DO understand?” “Who cares for most people?” she said, not looking at him.
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