Saying which, Adam slapped his pocket again, nodded, winked, and went upon his way.
CHAPTER XI
Of the "Man with the Tiger Mark"
It is a moot question as to whether a curl can be more alluring when it glows beneath the fiery kisses of the sun, or shines demurely in the tender radiance of the moon. As Bellew looked at it now,—that same small curl that nodded and beckoned to him above Anthea's left ear,—he strongly inclined to the latter opinion.
"Adam tells me that you are going out, Miss Anthea."
"Only as far as Mrs. Dibbin's cottage,—just across the meadow."
"Adam also informs me that Mrs. Dibbin is a witch."
"People call her so."
"Never in all my days have I seen a genuine, old witch,—so I'll come with you, if I may?"
"Oh, this is a very gentle old witch, and she is neither humpbacked, nor does she ride a broom-stick,—so I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, Mr. Bellew."