As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. “I am sure you will marry Nigel sooner or later, and then all your work will be thrown away. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. ‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question. Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room.
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