She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. “I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. I chose you for your strength, your cunning, your intelligence, your great beauty. So far as I am concerned, I am just now a hopeless nonentity. I've another reason for supposing he'll pay me a visit. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another.
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