settled the question of his detachment from the poor young lady,

by laying a brawny hand upon his chest, and sending him flying

back against the nearest wall.

(“I really think this must be a man!” was Mr. Lorry’s breathless

reflection, simultaneously with his coming against the wall.)

“Why, look at you all!” bawled this figure, addressing the inn

servants. “Why don’t you go and fetch things, instead of standing

there staring at me? I am not so much to look at, am I? Why don’t

you go and fetch things? I’ll let you know, if you don’t bring

smelling-salts, cold water, and vinegar, quick, I will.”

There was an immediate dispersal for these restoratives, and

she softly laid the patient on a sofa, and tended her with great skill

and gentleness: calling her “my precious!” and “my bird!” and

spreading her golden hair aside over her shoulders with great

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

pride and care.

“And you in brown!” she said, indignantly turning to Mr. Lorry;

“couldn’t you tell her what you had to tell her, without frightening

her to death? Look at her, with her pale face and her cold hands.

Do you call that being a Banker?”

Mr. Lorry was so exceedingly disconcerted by a question so

hard to answer, that he could only look on, at a distance, with

much feebler sympathy and humility, while the strong woman,

having banis