"Ah!" exclaimed Wild, looking angrily towards his supposed attendant. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. The news that his granddaughter desired an audience Lord Charvill had greeted with merely a grunt, which turned into a roar as his gorge rose when he heard that she was accompanied by her husband. Capes. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. I cannot do it, David. I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. I want you. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. " "Bring him here,—let me see him—let me embrace him—let me be assured that he is safe, and I am yours. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another.
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