" CHAPTER VI. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. In the next place, she really had some pretensions to beauty. ‘You have no need to be afraid of us. Voting wouldn’t do no ‘arm to ‘er. But if you wish to do old Wood a friendly turn, you may bring his wife. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. She laid her hand upon his arm.
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