And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. It was not a hard face, but it was resolute. ‘Never mind that now. The inn was a military haunt. The farmer had become obsessed with her and asked her to marry. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. Do not underestimate my power. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was.
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