’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. “Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. "If that sickly brat lives to be a man," continued Jonathan, rising, "I'll hang him upon the same tree as his father.
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