“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. Because for the punishments je m’en moque. You know, I’ve done no work at all this afternoon. ” She took the pocket-book and looked up at him with a little impulsive movement. In the first place there were not so many suitable advertisements as she had expected.
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