“Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. But all that could be ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time before in the direction of London. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly.
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