May be some little comfort;’ therefore went,
Past thro’ the solitary room in front,
Paused for a moment at an inner door,
Then struck it thrice, and, no one opening,
Enter’d; but Annie, seated with her grief, 280
Fresh from the burial of her little one,
Cared not to look on any human face,
But turn’d her own toward the wall and wept.
Then Philip standing up said falteringly
‘Annie, I come to ask a favour of you.’ 285