He seemed to possess infinite reserves of patience when she refused him or purposely tried to bait and anger him, but his patience only made him seem more sinister. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. "Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper.
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