132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. ” “I thought you would find that out. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. She agreed entirely with her brother. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones.
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