" CHAPTER XV. He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as possible. ’ Leonardo had taught her that. That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" "Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed the bills into her reticule. You're in a more serious scrape than you imagine. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. It was open. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. pgdp.
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