You wore a blue dress with your hair unbound, and never had I seen a maid so glorious with eyes so blue or a smile so bright. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. The women, Ann Veronica thought, were not quite so interesting as the men. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. "If there is any honour in you, stop and think.
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