"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. He looked distant, irritated. I do want them. You have threatened to kill me for nothing, I know not how many times. ‘No! Let me alone!’ ‘It is not safe!’ ‘That is entirely my affair, and not your affair in the least,’ she told him haughtily. But still she knew they were not right, and at times they became a horrible obsession as of something waiting for her round the corner. She went next day to the schools, and her world seemed all made of happiness just worked up roughly into shapes and occasions and duties. He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. You can enjoy him and then drink him up. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. The boy was right. ‘Speak, then. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings.
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