I did not choose to mention my knowledge of this fact to your worthy father; but you may rely on its correctness. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. I hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company.
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