“If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time. ” “May I ask,” Anna said softly, “what you presume to have been the nature of my errand here this evening?” Sir John pointed to Annabel, who was as yet utterly limp. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. So far, however, was this submission from producing the desired effect, that it seemed only to lend additional fuel to her displeasure.
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