"I know, but they demand thought. My arrow will pierce him before he has time for thought. He will declare himself my slave--I shall send him round the world to bring me back the wedding ring of a happy woman--in the meantime all the men who are between him and the title will die of different diseases--he will come back Lord Grandcourt--but without the ring--and fall at my feet. I shall laugh at him--he will rise in resentment--I shall laugh more--he will call for his steed and ride to Quetcham, where he will find Miss Arrowpoint just married to a needy musician, Mrs. Arrowpoint tearing her cap off, and Mr. Arrowpoint standing by. Exit Lord Grandcourt, who returns to Diplow, and, like M. Jabot, _change de linge_."
Was ever any young witch like this? You thought of hiding things from her--sat upon your secret and looked innocent, and all the while she knew by the corner of your eye that it was exactly five pounds ten you were sitting on! As well turn the key to keep out the damp! It was probable that by dint of divination she already knew more than any one else did of Mr. Grandcourt. That idea in Mrs. Davilow's mind prompted the sort of question which often comes without any other apparent reason than the faculty of speech and the not knowing what to do with it.

"I know, but they demand thought. My arrow will pierce him before he has time for thought. He will declare himself my slave - I shall send him round the world to bring me back the wedding ring of a happy woman - in the meantime all the men between him and the title will die - he will come back Lord Grandcourt and fall at my feet. I shall laugh at him - he will call for his steed and ride to Quetcham, where he will find Miss Arrowpoint just married to a needy musician."
Was ever any young witch like this? You sat upon your secret, and all the while she knew exactly what you were sitting on! As well turn the key to keep out the damp!
