‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. . It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. Was it ruined?’ ‘But yes, it was entirely ruined.
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