His relation of the murder of Sir Rowland petrified even his fierce auditors. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. Only your horror of a grandfather insisted on coming with me, so I had to wait for him to be ready and travel at his pace. It comes over the mountains, Anna, pink darkening into orange red, everywhere a wonderful cloud sea, scintillating with colour. She advanced, stabbing at him. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him.
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