" "Excuse me, Madam," replied the carpenter, turning his back upon her, and sinking into a chair: "Thames, my love, bring me my spectacles. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. ” Anna wheeled an easy chair to the fire.
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