" "I declare I don't know what to do," said Wood, burned by conflicting emotions. The hansom drove off. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. He leaned forward to embrace her. You're rich. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica.
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