She found presently she was out of the dock and confronted with the alternative of being bound over in one surety for the sum of forty pounds— whatever that might mean or a month’s imprisonment. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. It’s all nonsense. Don't you see Mr. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations.
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