Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. The benches running round the room, though fastened to the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched off; while the table, which was similarly secured to the boards, was upset, and its contents—bottles, jugs, glasses, and bowls were broken and scattered about in all directions. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence. Ah, no, I have it wrong. Bordered by fine timber, the road occasionally offered glimpses of a lovely valley, until a wider opening gave a full view of a delightful and varied prospect.
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