"Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. “You’re getting too old to put things off, John. Not I. I do wish you could come and dine with us some evening. She attacked his hair resolutely. It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. Ann Veronica listened thoughtfully, with her eyes on the turf, and now and then she asked a question or looked up to discuss a point.
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