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. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale. Section 3. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up.
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