. "Mr. “Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. "We won't have any trouble understanding each other; same language. ” He stepped back as though he had received a blow. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould.
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