That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that. It appeared from what he said that he had been captured when asleep,—that his liquor had been drugged,—otherwise, he would never have allowed himself to be taken alive. It dawned upon him that he had been abominably used by Ann Veronica. If hopeless love for her made me a robber, it has also saved me many a crime.
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