The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. We’ll find a way to survive. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right.
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