“I don’t see why I should take it secondhand. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. ’ ‘Don’t call me by name,’ she snapped.
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