If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. " "Do you want me to tell her that I am grateful?" "Well, aren't you?" "I don't know; I really don't know. I can remove the prisoner at any hour of the night I think fit: and I will remove him. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. I was grateful.
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