Softly she rose to her feet. She asked no further questions for the moment. Her dress, it has just been said, was neatness and simplicity itself. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. Wood, I command you not to stir," vociferated the carpenter's better-half; "recollect you'll be answerable to me. Sir James Thornhill, then, rose.
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