“I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. 136 They came out and said it: Lucy was needed at home to cook and clean. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love.
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