Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. Only your pa knew as how I were the one as saw to you at the wet-nurse’s cottage, and he got a-hold of me and made me bring him to you. And I was altogether disgusted when he kissed me. ‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names. Sir John hesitated, and then continued. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified.
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