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His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. It could not be she who had done this. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. . You can do anything you please. I went off to round up his wife. Other girls gathered around like sheep. ’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. Mirrors. —Strype's Stow.
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