‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. "Speak plainly. “I want to lay all my life at your feet. She tried to be casual. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed.
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