“You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. Around her neck was a little gold chain. Wood dandled his little charge to and fro, after the most approved nursery fashion, essaying at the same time the soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to the occasion; but, failing in his design, he soon lost all patience, and being, as we have before hinted, rather irritable, though extremely well-meaning, he lifted the unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so much good will, that he had well-nigh silenced him most effectually. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. We must always move on.
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