The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. The entrance was barred against them; and they had the additional mortification of hearing Sheppard's loud laughter at their discomfiture. Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked. . ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast.
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