But, answer me. I know something about men. The rest of his attire was nondescript. We may be stopped. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. ‘You have no need to be afraid of us. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women.
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