As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed. ‘Exactement. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. “Cheer up, Annabel. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. ’ ‘How do I know that?’ demanded Jack.
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