Avtandil paintings

and stuttered when he was frightened. Never did anybody look more guilty than poor Joe at that moment.
"Throw it into the fire," said Anne.
Joe looked very blank.
"P. . .p. . .p. . .lease, m. . .m. . .miss," he began.
"Do as I tell you, Joseph, without any words about it."
"B. . .b. . .but m. . .m. . .miss. . .th. . .th. . .they're. . ." gasped Joe in desperation.
"Joseph, are you going to obey me or are you not?" said Anne.
A bolder and more self-possessed lad than Joe Sloane would have been overawed by her tone and the dangerous flash of her eyes. This was a new Anne whom none of her pupils had ever seen before. Joe, with an agonized glance at St. Clair, went to the stove, opened the big, square front door, and threw the blue and white parcel in, before St. Clair, who had sprung to his feet, could utter a word. Then he dodged back just in time.