Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. She caught at the idea. ” A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. Sheppard let fall her basket. ‘Not yet, madame. Burn your palette and your easel. He used a most awful word! Then he said, ‘It’s Ann Veronica gone to join her sister!’ ‘Gone!’ I said.
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