"Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. Gosse had hidden himself successfully then. "Very well, Mr. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears.
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