"Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. I believe it amused him. I will shed no more blood. Where is Sir Rowland?" "In the library, your ladyship. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland. ‘No, you don’t.
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