Wood. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. Nothing anyone could say or do would change him. Nobody toys with me. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. But in the appendix of the dictionary she had discovered magic names—Hugo, Dumas, Thackeray, Hawthorne, Lytton. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. He stood still, almost breathless.
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