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Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit. But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. And as she was yet waiting for her tea to come she saw this man again. You would not have believed me, I know well. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. Murder had become nothing to her. 265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. ” She could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts racing across his mind, the failed hours of rehearsed lines.
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