. His arms slipped around her waist as they were on the doorstep and he kissed her lips sweetly. Yes; she had heard the music the night before. “Your name, I believe, is——” “Pellissier,” Anna answered. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied. Had he but known it, his outburst had done him no harm in the major’s eyes.
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