"By all means," rejoined Quilt. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. . He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. "You know not what you do. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears.
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