Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. . The impassivity of her features changed at last. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. . . In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. ‘Else she would not have married that ne’er-do-well only because Jarvis proposed him to her. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him.
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